“Here.” The man shoved a sheaf of papers into her hands and jabbed at the topmost one with a dusty finger. “Them cabinets look pretty enough how they be, but Jimmy says if we make ’em a set of three and build back further into the wall…”
Carole nodded her comprehension as they went through each drawing. Her original design had been reworked several times to represent all angles. She’d been considering the cabinets from the perspective of someone standing inside the room, but now that the bookshelves were gone, they had a new understanding of how much extra space had been built between the back of the shelves and the outer wall. Jimmy’s idea was a good one.
“He’s right,” she said eagerly, and fished a pencil from her reticule. Using the closest wall as a writing surface, she sketched new lines on top of the old ones. “If we increase the depth to that, and restructure the doors like this…”
“Aye. Hmm. I see. Jimmy, get your boots over here!”
The next few hours passed in a whirlwind of explanations and activity. Noon had come and gone before Carole realized she’d been on her feet for so long she could no longer remember breakfast. She didn’t care. Let her stomach rumble. She was having the time of her life! She’dlivein this room if need be until it was perfect.
“Come on.” Azureford looped his arm through hers and all but dragged her out of the library and into the dining room, which had become their makeshift base of operations.
She stumbled when she glanced over her shoulder toward the construction. “I—”
“—have to eat,” he finished firmly, and pulled out a chair for her.
Instead of their usual disarray of documents, the table overflowed with an abundant tea setting.
She sat, suddenly famished. “Thank you.”
Rather than preside from the head of the table, he took the seat beside her, as had become their custom.
“Pear tarts.” He placed two on her plate. “Not another word until you’ve eaten them.”
She grinned and picked up her fork. From the moment Azureford had discovered pear tarts were her favorites, tea hadn’t been served without them. Enjoying two at a time was no hardship at all.
When tea was finished, she turned to Azureford as the footmen cleared the table. “I was thinking...”
He held up a finger as if he’d been expecting precisely those words, and retrieved a small box from a side table. She laughed as he displayed his treasures: three new journals, two freshly cut plumes, and a large bottle of ink.
“I don’t thinkthatmuch,” she teased him.
He arched his brows. “If I don’t keep my eye on you, all three of those journals will be fully illustrated by nightfall.”
“Then I suppose you better keep your eyes on me,” she answered lightly.
His voice turned husky. “I do.”
Her pulse skipped. Suddenly very aware of how close their bodies were to each other, she busied herself with the plumes and journals.
The moment passed, and in no time their heads were bent together over the designs for the billiard room and the timeline they needed to adhere to in order for all the pieces to fall into place on schedule.
Carole was no longer certain which were her favorite moments of the day: standing in the eye of the construction storm, or being elbow-to-elbow with Azureford amid a blanket of plans and sketches.
Despite being a powerful duke, he was neither arrogant nor imperious. He listened to her suggestions as though she were the one with the Oxford degree. Not that he hid his own opinions. Azureford was splendid to debate ideas with. His analytical nature was the perfect complement to her artistic imagination. Rather than argue, their conversations were liberally sprinkled withwhat if weandoh, I hadn’t thought of it that way!
They weren’t just a good team, she realized with wonder. Over a solid week of near-constant togetherness, they’d managed to becomefriends. She was free to be herself. Draw what she pleased, make as bold a suggestion as she liked. And as for him… what more could a woman want?
“This week,” he continued, “Thurston’s workshop is crafting the pieces for our billiard table. Next week when it arrives, they’ll install it directly in the new billiard room—”
“I’ll get to meet John Thurston?” she squealed.
“A pox on Thurston,” Azureford scolded with mock jealousy. “You’ll meet his contracted assembly team and that’s all.”
She feigned a lovesick swoon. “I’ll meet someone who has met John Thurston!”
“If I never hear that name again…” Azureford growled.
“Miss!” Jimmy poked his head inside the dining room. “Campbell wants to know if we can—”
