Sir Phineas didn’t believe in titles, not even his own, although he was quick enough to use it when it served him. Besides, it couldn’t hurt to have an earl in one’s pocket. “I’m glad Greyley is stopping by. I’d like to discuss a few things with him, and—”

“You are not going to meet him.”

“Why not? I make it a point to meet any man who comes calling—”

“This isn’t a social visit. He wants to employ my services as governess.”

Sir Phineas would bet his last shilling that Greyley’s library was stocked with the finest of everything from port to cigars. For a marvelous instant, he pictured himself in that luxuriously imagined library, feet on a wide mahogany desk, a glass of prime port in one hand, a freshly rolled cigarillo in the other.

Perhaps even a few great-grandchildren scampering about the room.

The picture warmed him as he cocked a brow at his recalcitrant granddaughter. “Will you accept Greyley’s offer of employment?”

“No,” she said, her jaw set.

“Won’t pay a decent wage, eh?” Sir Phineas shook his head, though he kept his gaze on Anna. “A bastard and a nip farthing.”

“It has nothing to do with money,” she replied hotly. “It’s just that I refuse to contribute to Lord Greyley’s avoidance of his responsibilities.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I daresay you aren’t aware of it, but Lord Greyley inherited some children from his cousin.”

“Five of’em, last I heard.”

Anna’s mouth thinned. “You knew about that?”

Since his retirement from society, Phineas had cultivated a network of elderly ladies whom he met during his stroll in the park each and every morning. Due to their unceasing efforts, no word of gossip, true or otherwise, ever escaped his willing ears. “Everyone knows about Greyley and those children.”

“I didn’t.”

“I’d have told you if I’d realized you had a fancy for the man.”

That lit the fires. She blazed at him with such a ferocious look that he had to bite his lip to keep from grinning.

“I do not have a ‘fancy’ for Greyley. Or any man, for that matter.”

Sir Phineas didn’t at all care for the way she was speaking through her clenched teeth. “I daresay that’s for the best. I’m not sure I approve of this fellow.” Phineas stood and limped to the window and peered down into the street. “I believe Hawkes has managed to put out the fire.”

“Until you throw another cigarillo out the window.”

“I wasn’t smoking, I tell you.” As he stood watching the butler, a large, well-sprung travel coach lumbered down the road. Wide and luxuriously appointed with leather curtains and brass trim, it slowed to a stop at the steps. A footman climbed down from the perch and went to open the carriage door.

Anna was once again standing. “Has he come?”

“Lud, no. It’s a coal cart, nothing more.” The sumptuous travel coach seemed very out of place among the shabby-genteel buildings that surrounded it. But even more out of place was the large and elegantly turned Earl of Greyley, just now descending the steps. Dressed in the height of fashion, but with a quiet style that immediately won Sir Phineas’s approval, the earl stood on the front walk and murmured instructions to his footman. Phineas supposed that the earl was a handsome enough man, one who might appeal to Anna’s overly fastidious tastes.