Pendragon

"When I was a boy. Now it's your turn. He will grunt and groan and enjoy himself immensely, and complain the whole time."

"He is an unusual butler, Thomas. Ah, I wonder what you will think when you meet Hollis, my uncle Douglas's butler. He's more distinguished than the king."

"It wouldn't require all that much."

She smiled and said, "Barnacle. That is a very strange name."

"You haven't begun to see all the strangeness at Pendragon yet, Meggie."

"Thomas, why didn't your mother wish to come to our wedding? Besides just being perverse?"

He looked her straight in the eye and said, "She didn't want me to marry."

"Me?"

"No, anyone. She believes I'm too young, but she'll come to love you, Meggie. How could she not?"

"Maybe she doesn't like the fact that my father is a vicar. Maybe she thinks I'm not well enough born for her son the earl."

"No," her son said with a goodly dose of cynicism, "she just doesn't want to relinquish the reins of control here at Pendragon."

"Well, I don't have to, you know, I-"

"Meggie, you are my wife, the countess of Lancaster, the mistress of Pendragon. Pendragon is your responsibility. Don't forget about what your uncle said about responsibility."

"No," Meggie said slowly, "I won't." She turned and looked around the entrance hall. It wasn't dreadful at all. It was cold and dismal, like the drawing room, but it had some majesty to it, soaring up three stories to the blackened beamed roof. There was a huge old chandelier hang ing down from that immense height. Meggie hoped the rope holding it was very sturdy indeed and wondered when it had last been checked and cleaned. Probably not since it had been rebuilt after Cromwell had burned it down. She looked down when her heels clicked on the marble floor. Those black-and-white tiles were lovely. All they needed was a good scrubbing, maybe three good scrubbings. The filth didn't hide how impressive they still were. Suits of armor lined one wall, one after the other, and at least a half dozen sconces soldiered along in a straight line above them. The sconces and the armor looked like they hadn't been used or cleaned or polished for at least a century, maybe two.

Thomas seemed to see nothing amiss. He said with a negligent wave, "The armor-it's Flemish, for the most part, fifteenth century. My uncle bought them from a viscount in Surrey who'd lost all his money, and had them carted here."

Then he said as he pointed to the huge oak staircase that could accommodate a near battalion marching side by side, "The house is old. Since it was originally built in the late fourteen hundreds by the Kavanaghs, it was added to over the years, then destroyed, rebuilt, and ended up looking like this. Both my great-uncle and my uncle did very little. You will find it somewhat drafty. Now that I have access to unexpected funds I will finish off all the necessary repairs."

"Is that why you married me, Thomas? You needed my dowry?"

"Yes, that's exactly the reason."

"Good. I hope there is enough for everything you wish to do."

He said, "You amaze me, Meggie, the way your brain works. No, I didn't marry you for your damned dowry. You will forget that."

"I never thought that you did." She was looking at his mouth. He started, then took a step back. He pointed to the very old paintings climbing up the wall beside the staircase. Meggie, engaged, said, "Are these your ancestors or Kavanaghs?"

"My uncle claimed they were all Malcombes. They are so old, no one, however, really cares. In the master's bedchamber there are portraits of Malcombes. A gloomy bunch. A couple of rogues, an out-and-out scoundrel, a womanizer, and a prominent member of the House of Lords."

"Now you are the earl. You will do something amazing, Thomas, I just know it. You have a strong sense of duty, your brain is quite fit, and you don't indulge yourself overly."

He appeared startled. "You really believe that?" he asked slowly, stopping on the stairs and looking down at her. You believe that my brain is better than that damned Jeremy's? Is my sense of duty greater?

"Oh yes, certainly. I'm your wife and I should know all your good points as well as your bad. Now, your uncle was, of course, your father's younger brother?"

"That's right. He made his money in trade, something my mother doesn't like to speak of, but his brain served him well. I happen to agree with him. Making money all on your own isn't a bad thing. In my case, it was necessary because there wasn't much."

Meggie looked down at the stair railing that needed polish very badly. "Actually, I've never really had to think about money or the lack of it. My uncle the earl manages vast estates and is very rich, but it all comes from old wealth, you understand. Uncle Douglas is an excellent caretaker and more, he has added to the coffers through his fine management. At least that's what I overheard his estate manager saying."

"However would you, a female, know of that?"

She said without guile, "I have told you, have I not, that I have been a great eavesdropper in my time? My father would sometimes come to me if he suspected something and needed it verified. I just wish I'd eavesdropped when Jeremy and my father-no, never mind that, it isn't at all important."

Thomas wished Jeremy were here right at this moment, standing on the stair next to him. He'd pick him up and hurl him to the marble floor, then stomp him. He wanted to hear his jaw snap when his fist hit him.

He said, "Whereever did you get this eavesdropping tendency?"

She said easily, thinking everything was just fine, "I inherited it from my aunt Sinjun. I fear it is a lifelong habit, my lord."

"I will keep that to myself. I will also be watchful of what I say when you don't appear to be around."

"Wise of you. Now, my uncle Ryder inherited a huge amount of money from my great-uncle Brandon as well as a sugar plantation in Jamaica. As for my father, thanks to Uncle Douglas, who has always tended his money, he is also rich. Then Kildrummy Castle came into our lives and that brought more money into my father's pockets. Not that he ever noticed or spoke of it." Meggie looked at him closely. "If you did marry me for my money, why then, I think you made a very wise investment."

"Thank you. I agree. It was actually far more that I'd expected."

"How much was it?"

He stopped again, looked down at her, and said slowly, "One doesn't speak of that to a lady, surely you know that."

"No, I don't know that at all. I was bought. Isn't it fair that I know my price?"

"You weren't bought."

"My father paid for me, thus I was bought. Come on, now. Spit it out. How much, Thomas?"

"Dammit. Ten thousand pounds."

He wanted to kick himself for just spitting that out. He arched a brow and tried to look supercilious. "Do you think you're worth ten thousand pounds?"

She sighed. "I've lived all my life never knowing hunger or want. If I saw a bolt of material that pleased me, I would order it. My father spent so much money on my Season in London and I never even thought about it." She sighed. "I didn't even find a husband. After Jeremy-" Her voice dropped like a stone off a cliff.