Well! This was something, indeed. “Is this visitor anyone I know?”

Anna fixed him with a hard stare. “Grandpapa, you are not to have anything to do with him.”

Oh ho! So it was a “him”? Phineas assumed a wounded expression. “As if I would meddle in your affairs.”

Anna stared at him without blinking.

Phineas tried to wait it out, but her gaze reminded him a tad too much of his dearly departed wife. “Oh, very well,” he finally said in a testy tone. “I suppose you’re old enough to take care of your own business.”

“Exactly.” She smoothed her skirts, her coloring returning to normal. “For your information, the Earl of Greyley is coming to see me this morning.”

An earl, eh? Phineas squinted at the ceiling, trying to recall everything he knew about the earl. He was a man of fortune, if the gossips were to be believed. And an honorable man, too. And there had been some nattering about estates in Derbyshire and farther north. Hm. This could be just the thing.

Still, it wouldn’t do to appear too excited. Anna was a contrary woman, much like her grandmother. So instead of grinning, Sir Phineas snorted. “Greyley’s a bastard.”

Anna blinked. “You don’t even know him!”

“Don’t need to. Heard all about him from Lady Pedalshem. She says he’s a ne’er-do-well.”

“Lord Greyley is many things, but I’d never call him a ne’er-do-well.”

“If he’s not a ne’er-do-well, then what is he?”

“He’s arrogant, pompous, overly concerned with being right at all costs, and—” Anna clamped her mouth closed.

Sir Phineas waited, but Anna showed no sign of continuing. He moved restlessly. “At least admit you think he’s a bastard.”

She turned her fine gray eyes his way. “I will agree to nothing of the kind. I will, however, admit that he is a difficult person. And unscrupulous. And I daresay he has never had a care in his life. Still, I cannot allow you to malign him for no reason other than hearing a bit of unfavorable gossip.”

The rumbling of a carriage sounded outside. Anna stood so suddenly that it appeared she’d been propelled out of her chair by a forceful boot. Her gaze locked on the open window, her lips parted as if her breath struggled for release. The carriage lumbered to the front of the house and then passed by, the sound fading as quickly as it had arisen.

Anna sank back into her chair, her face pink as she self-consciously rearranged her skirts. “He’s late, you know. But then he would be.”

Demme, but something was going on. Anna wasn’t a nervy kind of chit, full of palpitations and silly airs, but she acted like a fluffhead waiting on a beau. This was getting better and better.

Sir Phineas put his hand into his pocket and carefully smoothed his last remaining cigarillos. While he wasn’t one to hold with the concept of nobility, he had to admit that Greyley’s wealth almost made up for the unfortunate fact that he possessed a title.