“You are a most excellent land manager, Mrs. Black. I am in complete agreement.” But Worthington did not give any indication he would speak to Sinclair.
Hester once more looked down the table. Sinclair was frowning at her despite Lady Prissypants’ best efforts to distract him with her bosom which even Hester had to admit, was spectacular. It bothered her, all that fawning over Sinclair on the part of Lady Prissypants.
“I think I require some air.” She forced her eyes back to the handsome man beside her. “The room has grown stuffy, and I’m not accustomed to wine.” She should ask him to accompany her, but the idea of seducing Worthington for Blackbird Heath, no matter how glorious he was, didn’t sit well with Hester at present.
Worthington smoothly came to his feet, tucking her hand securely in his arm. “I would like to indulge in a cheroot. Would you mind the company?”
A giggle came from the end of the table. Lady Prissypants was practically in Sinclair’s lap.
Just as I was last night.
Hester shored up her resolve. Opportunity was before her. And she wouldn’t have to witness such a disgusting display.
“I would welcome it. I would like your opinion on—a proposal for Blackbird Heath. I wish to know if it has any merit.” Worthington merely needed a small push in order to rally to her cause.Hebelieved in Blackbird Heath. Farming. Knew about the sort of bloody sheep she kept. Perhaps if she allowed him to steal a kiss or—something more—at the very least she was better than Lady Downing. Hester meant to give herself for a purpose. Blackbird Heath. And, she thought, looking up at Worthington, it would be no great hardship. Worthington wasn’t the least annoying, unlike Sinclair. He was also magnificent.
“A proposal?” He gave her a bemused look. “I will give you every consideration.”
If Worthington couldn’t convince Sinclair to leave her as land manager and end this stalemate, maybe she could behisland manager. Running Blackbird Heath for a gentleman such as Worthington would be a pleasure.
The wine had filled her with a great deal of bravado.
Sinclair didn’t once look in Hester’s direction as she and Worthington left the dining room, not with Lady Downing’s bosom almost pressed into his face. Why had she even attempted to negotiate with him?
Is that how I’m going to refer to the kiss we shared? A negotiation?
No, that had been something else entirely.
Heat floated over her cheeks and along the curve of her neck, recalling the way his mouth had taken control of hers. The warm cedar scent emanating from his skin. The play of muscles along his chest and shoulders. All of which had been put on full display as Sinclair handed her back the poor garden snake.
The mere memory had her nipples tightening into buds beneath the silk of her gown. The feel of his—
Hester tripped over a rock, but Worthington caught her. “Thank you.” She looked up at him, wondering why the thought ofthisbeautiful, man naked didn’t fill her with—lustful tendencies. It would make things far easier.
Worthington stopped and gently released Hester, walking a few steps to the left. With a flick of his wrist, he lit the cheroot, blowing out a series of smoke rings.
“It’s lovely out here, Mrs. Black. I like the sound of the frogs. I thought I saw a pond earlier.”
“You did. It’s on the other side of those trees.” She pointed. “The barns and other buildings are only a short walk away, not near the house.”
“Isn’t that odd for a farm, Mrs. Black?”
“Blackbird Heath didn’t begin as a farm but as a stately manor for a lord who lost his head to Oliver Cromwell.”
“Ah. As so many did. They probably danced. Or dressed in a color other than gray. The Roundheads didn’t care for such things.” Worthington’s face remained in shadow.
“My husband’s family was awarded the manor long ago, but their fortunes did not improve when Cromwell was gone.” She gave a tiny sigh. “The buildings were added later, once they realized they were not on the right side of things after all.”
Not exactly the most flirtatious sort of conversation, but Hester was not practiced at seduction. She’d only kissed three men in her entire life.
“Mr. Worthington, I’m not sure if you know the terms of my husband’s will—”
“I do,” he interrupted. “I find it strange, though I suppose he was trying to satisfy what he considered a debt of honor as well as provide for you.”
Honestly, Hester had no idea what Joshua had been thinking, or if he’d considered her welfare at all.
“Then you realize that my circumstances are not ideal. I have no desire to leave my home, nor do I think Sinclair wishes to remain here. We both know he dislikes the country and wants to sell the estate.”
“No great secret,” Worth agreed.
