“I am very well aware of what’s expected, Grandmama,” he said, managing not to grit his teeth.
She snorted. “I will freshen up in my room. We will speak at noon in the front drawing room, Foxton. I presumea fire has been lit in there.” It hadn’t, as Julian never used that room, which he thought overly ornate and pretentious, but he glanced at the butler who subtly inclined his head. By the time her ladyship came downstairs the fire would be burning merrily.
Julian was tempted to take himself off and go for a long ride around the estate, but he knew he would only be putting off the inevitable. Grandmama had come with the intention of reading him a lecture about Duty and the Earl, and the sooner he let her deliver it, the sooner he could get on with his life.
She arrived downstairs with a list in her hand, seated herself in the chair nearest the fire and said, “Now, I suppose you haven’t even thought about sending baskets of food—”
“To the poorest in the neighborhood. Yes, and it has been done.” He’d done it first thing in the morning, and delivered most of them himself. He wasn’t very comfortable playing Lord Bountiful, but he’d also had quite a lot of experience mingling with poor people, and didn’t look down on them as his father and brother had. He knew better.There but for the grace of God go I.Besides, he liked some of them. And taking Hamish with him always helped to break the ice.
“Oh.” She ticked something off on her list. “And the Christmas boxes?”
“Done and ready to be given out on Boxing Day. I consulted Cartwright as to the various needs.”
She sniffed. “Well then, on Christmas morning, you will need to read the lesson in church. I suggest—”
“The vicar and I have already chosen the lesson.”
“Oh. I see. And I don’t suppose you remembered to invite—”
“The vicar for Christmas dinner? Of course I didn’t forget. He gladly accepted, as did all the others I invited.” He named the people he’d invited.
She stiffened. “Do you expect me to sit down to dinner with your agent and members of the hoi polloi?”
“I don’t expect anything. You don’t have to dine with us if you don’t want to. I can have your dinner sent up on a tray if you prefer.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!”
“No, Grandmama,” he said hiding a smile. She loved to play hostess, particularly to those she considered her inferiors. “And, of course, I’ve finalized the menu with Cook.”
His grandmother’s lips thinned. “I could have done that.”
“Yes, but I didn’t know you were coming, did I?” he said sweetly.
With a sour look she consulted her list again. “I don’t suppose I’ll need to remind you to take part in the Boxing Day hunt?”
“No, there is no need to remind me. I won’t be joining the hunt.”
Her voice rose. “Won’t be hunting on Boxing Day? But the Earls of Foxtonalwaystake part in the hunt.”
“Not this one.”
“Your father and brother joined in the hunt every year. Led it as often as not.”
“I know.”
“And your grandfather before him.”
“Yes, that’s true.”
“And his father before him, and—”
“And no doubt every Earl of Foxton since the year dot hunted, but I don’t hunt.”
“What do you mean, you don’t hunt?”
“Would you eat a fox if it was cooked?”
Her face screwed up. “Of course not, you ridiculous boy. Who eats foxes? Nobody. Whatever gave you such an insane idea?”
