“Oh, I can correspond with them. I daresay Greyley would even frank my post, wouldn’t you?”

Greyley regarded the older man for a long moment. “Would you refrain from handing out French sheaths to my servants?”

“I’ll try to resist,” Grandpapa returned, his blue eyes twinkling.

There seemed to be an understanding between the two that set Anna’s teeth on edge. “Grandpapa, I’ve already made arrangements—”

“Cancel ’em.” He used his cane to shove his portmanteau at the waiting footman, who obligingly picked it up and went to strap it to the back of the coach. “I’ve no wish to see cousin Elmira. Boring woman who likes nothing better than to talk about all the dead people she knows.” Grandpapa limped to the side of the carriage and the morning sun touched his pale cheeks. His very pale cheeks.

Anna frowned. Now that she looked at him, Grandpapa appeared to be limping worse than usual, as well. Was he taking ill?

The earl’s lazy drawl sounded at her shoulder. “Let him come, Miss Thraxton. Greyley House has more than enough room.”

“But the governess quarters cannot be—”

“You won’t be staying in the governess quarters, but in one of the guest suites.”

She gazed at him with a suspicious stare, but he just shrugged. “The governess quarters suffered a slight accident involving a large amount of very sticky honey and a pillow full of feathers. Therefore, until it is back to normal, you will be in the guest suite. There is an adjoining room that will suit your grandfather well.”

“There,” Sir Phineas said, hobbling toward the open carriage door. “All settled then. Greyley, will you be joining us in the coach?”

“I’ll be riding,” the earl said, glancing at the footman who was even now untying the gelding from the back of the coach.

“If you get cold, feel free to join us,” Sir Phineas said airily, as if he’d just conferred a great honor. “I’ve much to discuss with you regarding the current state of the linen workers in your part of the country. I daresay you hear a great bit about that.”

To give the earl credit, only the faintest hint of surprise showed on his face. “I shall look forward to it.” He bowed, then mounted his horse with an amazing amount of grace for someone so large. His gaze settled on Anna and he touched the brim of his hat. “I will see you at Greyley House.” He turned the horse down the street and urged it on.

Anna watched until he was well out of sight, and then turned to find Grandpapa’s smiling gaze on her. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said, his smile widening.

But it was something, she could tell. She always knew when Grandpapa had some devilry in mind. And Anna was bound and determined to discover what it was.

Chapter 6

The Earl of Greyley tells the Elliots when to eat, when to sleep, and when to breathe. It’s a pity he doesn’t also tell them when to leave.