Whatever it is she does. What a statement.
“Very well,” Daniel said in a curt voice. “I shall wait for her.”
“Oh, no, you won’t.”
“You’re going to bar me from your sitting room,” he said, giving her a look of mild disbelief.
She crossed her arms. “If I must.”
He crossed his. “I am your nephew.”
“And amazingly enough, the connection does not seem to have imbued you with common sense.”
He stared at her.
“That was an insult,” she mentioned, “in case you’re having difficulty sorting it out.”
Good God.
“If you have any care for Miss Wynter,” Lady Pleinsworth continued imperiously, “you will leave her in peace. She is a sensible lady, and I keep her in my employ because I am fully certain that it is you who have pursued her and not the other way around.”
“Did you talk with her about me?” Daniel demanded. “Did you threaten her?”
“Of course not,” his aunt snapped, but she looked away for a split second, and Daniel knew she was lying. “As if I would threaten her,” she continued in a huff. “And furthermore, she’s not the one who needs a talking to. She knows how the world works, even if you do not. What happened at Whipple Hill can be overlooked—”
“What happened?” Daniel echoed, panic rising within him as he wondered to what, precisely, his aunt was referring. Had someone found out about his visit to Anne’s bedroom? No, that was impossible. Anne would have been thrown out of the house if that had been the case.
“Your time spent alone with her,” Lady Pleinsworth clarified. “Don’t think I was unaware. As much as I would like to believe that you have suddenly taken an interest in Harriet, Elizabeth, and Frances, any fool could see that you’ve been panting after Miss Wynter like a puppy dog.”
“Another insult, I assume,” he bit off.
She pursed her lips but otherwise ignored his comment. “I do not want to have to let her go,” she said, “but if you pursue the connection, I will have no choice. And you can be sure that no family of good standing would hire a governess who consorts with an earl.”
“Consorts?” he repeated, his voice somewhere between disbelief and disgust. “Don’t insult her with such a word.”
His aunt drew back and regarded him with mild pity. “It is not I who insults her. In fact, I applaud Miss Wynter for possessing good judgment where you do not. I was warned not to hire such an attractive young woman as a governess, but despite her looks she is extremely intelligent. And the girls quite adore her. Would you have me discriminate against her for her beauty?”
“No,” he bit off, ready to climb the walls with frustration. “And what the devil has that to do with anything? I just want to speak with her.” His voice rose at the end, coming dangerously close to a roar.
Lady Pleinsworth leveled a long stare at his face. “No,” she said.
Daniel practically bit his tongue to keep from snapping at her. The only way his aunt was going to let him see Anne was if he told her that he suspected that she had been the target of the attack at Whipple Hill. But anything that hinted at a scandalous past would have her fired immediately, and he would not be the cause of her loss of employment.
Finally, his patience worn down to a threadbare string, he let out a between-the-teeth exhale and said, “I need to speak with her once. One time only. It may be in your sitting room with the door ajar, but I would insist upon privacy.”
His aunt regarded him suspiciously. “Once?”
“Once.” It was not strictly true; he wished for a great deal more than that, but that was all he was going to request.
“I shall think about it,” she sniffed.
“Aunt Charlotte!”
“Oh, very well, just once, and only because I wish to believe that your mother raised a son who has some sense of right and wrong.”
“Oh, for the love of—”
“Don’t blaspheme in front of me,” she warned, “and make me reconsider my judgment.”
Daniel clamped his mouth shut, gritting his teeth so hard he fully expected to taste powder.
“You may call upon her tomorrow,” Lady Pleinsworth granted. “At eleven in the morning. The girls plan to go shopping with Sarah and Honoria. I would prefer not to have them in the house while you are . . .” She appeared not to know how to describe it, instead flicking her hand distastefully in the air.