“Shall I take this to Mr. Quincy, miss?” Rhoda asked.
Every other morning, Carole’s answer to this question had always been,No, I’ll do it.Even though her father barely glanced up from his desk, at least he would know his daughter never stopped caring about him. The who-takes-the-tray dance was part of the ritual.
“Please do.” She curled her fingers about her reticule. “I must hurry.”
“You said… yes?” the maid stammered in obvious surprise. “That is, of course, miss. I’m happy to.”
Carole was always happy to, too. This uncharacteristic deviation was temporary. Soon enough, Azureford’s holiday would end and the Quincy household would resume its predictable patterns.
“Thank you, Rhoda.” Carole swept out the door before the maid’s shocked eyes could ask any more questions.
When all of this was over, she’d dedicate even more time to Father to make up for her absence. If it weren’t for Carole, he’d never come out of his study. Perhaps if she did more for him, he’d have free time… and spend some of it with her.
Before any early morning passersby could stop her, she sprinted from her front door to Azureford’s. It was wide open. Men in frequently patched work clothes streamed inside, or wandered around to the rear to squint at the pair of decorative windows Carole intended to replace with large, sunny panes to let in more light.
Inside, the chaos was perfection. The level of noise and the impossibility of walking in a straight line without bumping into someone made her feel like she was in the middle of Marlowe Castle’s ballroom at the height of the Christmas season.
“I need a measuring tape,” called out one of the men.
She yanked hers from her reticule and slapped the coiled white ribbon into his outstretched hand.
He grunted in response and climbed back up his ladder without a single word of thanks.
Carole’s spirits soared. She had never felt so much a part of something in her life. He hadn’t said,Wot, a woman?!or tried to explain in gentle terms that the very competent men were doing very important things right now, and maybe the little lady would like to retire to a pretty drawing room and mind her embroidery while they did the real work.
“Got a hammer and nails in there, too?” came a low, amused voice.
She spun to face Azureford, her heart pounding in excitement.
His dark brown hair tumbled across his forehead, as though he’d been up for hours. However, his polished black Hessians, tight-fitting buckskins, gorgeous jay-blue coat, and sharp white cravat made him look as if he’d been planning an outing with thebeau monde, rather than a fortnight of sawdust and upheaval.
“All these big, strong men, and none of you thought to bring a hammer?” she teased.
His dark eyes narrowed as though he hadn’t liked the idea of her looking at other men. Her stomach fluttered in response. She could never tell him that the room could be filled with a thousand strapping dukes, and her gaze would still only be drawn to him.
“We’re about to find out if your plan will bear fruit.” His serious expression reminded her what they both had at stake. “Ready?”
Voice mute, she gave a jerky nod. She’d taught herself mathematics. Bested her father at billiards. Become head of her own household at nine years of age. She was capable ofthis.
“Good. Tomorrow, the woodworker arrives to take final measurements for the cabinetry you designed.” Azureford gestured behind him. “Today, we destroy perfectly sound shelves in order to make room.”
“No destroying!” She choked in horror. “You don’t need those shelves anymore, but the wood can be repurposed. Donate it to the castle if you haven’t any use for it yourself, and they’ll see it finds a worthy home.”
Without question, the Duke of Azureford turned and barked new orders to the men behind him.
They gestured their understanding and began stacking a pile of serviceable slats where the desk had once stood.
Joy threatened to overtake her. She looked around in wonder and pride. This wasn’t just another wistful sketch from her imagination. This was really happening. Azureford’s vast wealth and preternatural efficiency had turned her ideas from a sketch to reality in what felt like mere seconds.
Over the past week, she’d witnessed firsthand what it must be like to work alongside him in the House of Lords. No wonder everyone wanted him on their committees. He saw the big picture and the small details. Wrangled paper and people and projects without blinking an eye.
Carole’s eyes didn’t stop blinking from the dust flying in the air and the intermittent bang of hammers. The furniture was gone from the library, the workers were ripping shelves from the walls, and a team on the outside of the cottage were climbing up ladders next to the windows.
An older man in a battered cap drew up next to Azureford. “Need your approval for the changes to the design, Your Grace. Jimmy says—”
“Not me.” Azureford’s fingers grazed Carole’s arm. “Talk to her.”
Her chest thumped.
