April 1811

Mina smiled, albeit with a hint of crookedness, at her unexpected guests.

"Just a moment, please," she said, then gracefully entered the house and closed the doors right before Royston's and his mother's noses.

Royston, somewhat taken aback by this abrupt and coarse action, exchanged a glance with his mother, who simply shrugged her shoulders and looked around the surroundings. Meanwhile, Mina walked inside at a measured pace, allowing her emotions to settle. Then, a sudden realization struck her like a lightning bolt, and her refined lips let out an exclamation, one she rarely ever used:

"Fuck."

The Lord Contrary arrived at long last accompanied by his mother, and she, instead of promptly inviting them invited indoors as propriety dictated, had them linger outside like some damned paupers. This was her sole opportunity to make a favourable impression, and she had already managed to create a catastrophic one! How had her nerves betrayed her in such a manner?! After all, he was bound to make an appearance sooner or later!

The devil should have announced his arrival beforehand though, she pondered, sighed, and took several deep breaths before returning to the entrance. There was no avoiding the delayed courtesy now.

"My sincerest apologies," were her first words after she reopened the doors, her face flush with embarrassment and nerves. "It has been a rather long day, and I found myself in a bit of a panic. I am Miss Mina Haswell." She chuckled nervously and swallowed.

Lady Langdon offered a warm smile to Mina, while her son regarded her with a stern glare, as if she were quite a madwoman.

"Please, Lady Langdon, Lord Langdon, do come in and make yourselves at home in our – your – abode," she stumbled over her words, feeling somewhat out of her element.

Indeed, she was quite out of her element as the rightful owner now graced the threshold of the house. His house, she had to correct herself. Regardless of the time she had spent here, regardless of her deep affection for this place, it was unequivocally Lord Langdon's property and domain. Mina stole a fleeting glance at Royston, yet he caught her gaze, causing a profound unease with the frigid, dark-blue depths of his eyes. It was as if she were naught more than an insignificant insect, one he wouldn't hesitate to crush beneath his boot. She promptly averted her gaze to Lady Langdon, but her mind drew a blank. The visitors were a rather rare occurrence at this house, which had left her socially rusty, and devoid of practice. At that precise moment, there was scarcely a greater fool in all of Britain than Mina, and she was acutely aware of it.

"Miss Haswell, we may appear imposing, but do not distress yourself," Polly remarked with a steadfast smile, seeking to alleviate the tension. "In fact, we are as surprised as you are, although we have crossed paths before. Our families used to share a close connection in times gone by."

Mina responded with curiosity, "Oh, Lady Langdon, I-I would be most delighted to hear those tales. Perhaps you would care for some tea, biscuits, or even a dinner?"

She was finally coming to her senses, though she could feel Royston's unwavering gaze upon her. Evidently, his mother deemed his scrutinizing to be inappropriate as well, for she addressed him thus:

"Roy, I propose we have our dinner brought to our chambers, as both of us must be fatigued after our lengthy journey."

The command in her voice was evident, yet Royston was tempted to have Miss Haswell's dancing attendance to his newly acquired lordly whims, if only to ascertain whether this lovely pet possessed the same spirited demeanour in person as she exhibited within her penned lines.

And yet – there was ample time to be demanding and order the young woman around, hence he opted to heed the silent plea mirrored in his mother's eyes.

"Miss Haswell," he said with a wry smile, "my mother is correct. Would you be so kind to lead us to our bedchambers? I believe we shall not trouble you further, at least for this evening."

The devil's voice, smooth as velvet, unsettled Mina, and she found herself inexplicably nervous in his presence, unable to meet his gaze due to the continuous twists in her stomach. And, naturally, she caught the hint of impertinence in his statement but compelled herself to offer a gracious smile, gesturing toward the hallway.

"Please, follow me, Lady and Lord Langdon," she said, taking a few graceful steps forward, when his voice arrested her progress.

"You don't mean to appoint us the bedchambers on the ground floor, do you, Miss Haswell?," asked Royston, his brows furrowed.

Her smile soured, but she was still capable of holding herself as a gracious host.

"That is indeed my intention, Mr. — Lord Langdon," she quickly corrected herself, then continued, "Please understand, we find ourselves in a rather precarious situation with the roof, as you may have observed from the exterior, I believe. The upper chambers are currently in a most unfortunate state, hardly suitable to accommodate you or anyone else at this juncture."

"There is still more than one-third of the roof intact, I believe," retorted Royston, "thus the chambers below should suffice, Miss Haswell."

Mina's smile returned to her countenance, but her tone revealed a hint of vexation, "To lessen the costs, that wing is presently disused, Lord Langdon, and has remained so for quite some time. Moreover, your lordship did not, in fact, find the occasion to apprise me of your arrival; otherwise, I would have ensured the master bedrooms were suitably prepared for both you and your esteemed mother."

She was quite delighted to discern the first hints of shadow in his eyes.

"Dear Miss Haswell—"Roy began, adopting a somewhat condescending tone, but his mother interjected, "Royston, it's just one night – then we can assess whether the chambers in the other wing would suffice. You know I'm not a demanding person – all I desire at this moment is a comfortable bed. And I implore you – I would greatly appreciate laying my weary head down."

If there was an air of command in her voice before, now his mother conveyed her disapproval through piercing glances alone, directed at her stubborn as mule son. He squinted and redirected his gaze toward Miss Haswell, accompanied by a feigned smile.

"Very well, please lead us to our bedrooms, Miss Haswell," Royston finally conceded, though his tone carried a hint of mockery that did not escape her notice.

Nevertheless, she turned gracefully on her heel and proceeded to guide them to the rooms that she was certain would be free and prepared to accommodate two guests.

"Please, Lady Langdon, allow me to show you to a chamber that I trust will meet your requirements." Mina opened the doors into a bedroom adorned with walls of a soft coral hue, then continued to the chamber opposite, which boasted walls in a delicate shade of pale green. "And this one, Lord Langdon, should hopefully provide for your needs. While the furnishings in both chambers are rather modest, come the morning, I shall inspect the master bedrooms available in the adjoining wing."

With the word 'modest', she cast a fleeting glare at Viscount Sinclair, who was once again furrowing his distinguished brow.

"You will check the master bedrooms, Miss Haswell?," Royston inquired, his tone tinged with disbelief.

Mina, quite taken aback by his question, replied: "Certainly, Lord Langdon. Is that somehow an issue?"

"To be perfectly frank, my mother can undertake that task," Royston responded. "I require your assistance in navigating the house, commencing from the ground floor and ascending to the upper floors, including the section with the damaged roof."

It was now Mina's eyebrows that were furrowing, while internally she was seething. This pompous Sir Stubborn was now directing her as if she were his mere valet! How dares he?! The audacity of the devil!

"I believe our butler will be the most fitting person for this arduous task," she replied as calmly as possible.

"That won't do, Miss Haswell," Royston replied with a smirk that made Mina reconsider the murder.

"Why the dev—why not, sir?," she asked, trying her best to suppress the mounting indignation.

She gulped at the curse that almost left her mouth, yet his eyes revealed that he caught her drift. Leaning nonchalantly on the doorframe, arms crossed, Royston replied:

"Because you asked me for the renovation funds, and I want to know precisely what expenses you intend to incur. You see, Miss Haswell, if it's my purse that will be drained, I desire complete assurance that it's in the most capable hands."

Mina drew a composed breath. Oh, how she longed to wipe away that haughty grin from his countenance, framed by those golden locks! Alas, he had her cornered. The Viscount Vexation held her firmly within his grasp, well aware of his power. On the brighter side, he might have come to Southampton solely for this purpose – once her renovation plans were in place, he would release the necessary funds and promptly return his pompous arse to Dover, never to cross her path again.

"Very well, we shall discuss this matter in the morning," Mina declared with resolve. She then turned to Lady Langdon, adding, "Now, if you'll pardon me, I shall have your baggage conveyed to your respective chambers, along with dinner. Should you require further assistance, my room is at the end of this corridor, to the left."

She then left them both standing at their room thresholds.

Royston observed her until she disappeared around the corner, then turned his gaze to his mama, who was this long a silent witness to the exchanges with the young miss. Polly appeared rather unimpressed by his antics and shook her head.

"What is it, mother?" Royston inquired with a mischievous glint in his eyes, although he was well aware of the forthcoming response.

"I had never foreseen this day, yet here it is – I'm ashamed of you," his mother declared with a prickly tone.

This only elicited a scoff of amusement from him. "I haven't uttered a single offensive word."

"It's not what you said, but how you served it to Miss Haswell. I vow, if you persist in such behaviour, I might actually believe you're developing a great fondness for the young lady," Polly retorted, her lips curving into a smirk, while her son's countenance grew more serious.

He uttered something that sounded akin to 'never in a thousand lifetimes' to her sensitive ears, turned toward his chamber, and resolutely shut the doors behind him. Yet Polly was a mother, and maternal instincts often provided insight that eluded their children. Naturally, she needed to exercise caution and avoid placing undue pressure on Roy, all the while endeavouring to become better acquainted with Mina. With a knowing smile, she entered her assigned chamber and closed the door with a quiet thud.

That night, Mina couldn't find peaceful slumber, her thoughts in turmoil after the unexpected arrival of her esteemed guests. While she held Lady Langdon in high regard for her sweetness and tenderness, her son proved to be a formidable disruption to the tranquillity of her life.

I had considered him an old bounder, she mused inwardly, yet the man is scarcely older than I. I am somewhat curious about the secrets concealed beneath that exterior of pettiness, sass, and arrogance. Perhaps it is a façade, or perhaps his true nature laid bare for all to see.

Then she turned around in the bed, and chided herself: What is Lord Langdon to me, anyway, to muse about his predicament?! He's but another gentleman of our times, a fortunate one indeed – how many men find themselves suddenly burdened with the inheritance of a noble title? And yet, he appears to be unimpressed by it all. The devil may claim him and his indifferent disposition!

Mina then reclined on her back and sighed. The Almighty undoubtedly possessed a sense of humour and appeared to be orchestrating a comedy of errors with her. Just as she entertained the thought of encountering the handsome Earl Westhaven once more, she found herself instead in the company of Colonel Refusal. However, Providence was renowned for presenting the most unforeseen trials and tribulations, and she dared not invite another divine ordeal upon her head.

"Dear Lord," she murmured to the dark chamber, "I beseech you, let not the Devil claim Lord Langdon, for I repent my hasty words. Yet, a touch of heavenly grace to temper his disposition would be most welcome, that he ceases to be a perpetual thorn in my side. I offer my sincerest thanks in humble supplication."

Meanwhile, the newly minted Viscount Sinclair was enduring trials and tribulations of his own. The mattress was stuffed with some wretched material that prodded his skin with every shift he made in his slumber. The pillows lacked sufficient softness, and the sheets were an affront to his senses. In an unsettling dream, one of the pillows morphed into the likeness of Miss Haswell's face and nibbled at his earlobe. Royston roused himself from this unsettling vision with a weary sigh.

"Every inch of this place bears the mark of you and your disposition, my dear pet," he mumbled drowsily into the enveloping darkness. "Fear not, for with my arrival, I shall set things to right. This simply will not do."

With that resolution in mind, he surrendered to the beckoning embrace of slumber once more, just akin to the young miss who resided a short distance along the corridor.