This produced a sensation. Mr Belfort thought the old gentleman scored a decided hit there.
Rensley was discomfited for a moment, but recovered.
“Oh, you’ve been in the house in your youth! That’s all there is to that. You were a groom there, I dare swear, and you got into the house!”
Mr Belfort wagged a solemn head. “Ay, that’s a possibility, y’know.”
My lord’s eyes glinted. Very sweet was his voice, dangerously sweet. “It’s more than you can claim to have done, my dear cousin,” he said gently. “I’ll swear you never set foot in it till my brother died!”
Rensley’s jaw dropped; he grew purple in the face. “Damn your impudence!” he spluttered.
Lord March interposed. “Enough of that. Did you set foot in it, Rensley?”
The old gentleman was indignant. “Certainly he did not!” he said, before Rensley could reply. “There was never a Rensley dared show his face on our land! What had we to do with them?” Almost he snorted.
His daughter’s eyes widened a little; Mr Belfort sniggered.
Rensley bit back a hot answer. Came a look of cunning into his face. “So you never met me when we were boys, my Lord Barham?” he said.