“I did not say it was.” She couldn’t explain why it thrilled her to have his lips so close to her. She stayed precisely where she was,not flinching away. “Yet it does not mean I cannot help to make your house more homely, does it?”
He fell silent. She heard his heavy breath, close to a sigh. He didn’t move from her side but stayed so close, her breathing fell in time with his own.
“What would your staff say?” she whispered. “To see you standing so near to me.”
“They will gossip and think me improper,” he said instantly, but still, he did not move back.
For a brief second, it was as if none of the isolation had happened over the last few days. It was as though they did not spend each night sleeping beside one another, without a word uttered between the pair of them.
“Your Grace,” she whispered, angling her head toward him once again.
“Do you wish me to move back?” he murmured. His lips were so near to her now, she could practically feel them against her neck. Her hands were clammy, and the paper chain slipped out of her hand. He must have caught it, for he returned it to her lap where their hands brushed. “Do what you like, Charity. Just keep your changes out of my study.”
He stood and left so swiftly that she swayed in her seat. The tension and excitement he had cast over her body, like some sortof spell, left with him and she felt dazed with him now gone. Her hands busied themselves with the paper chain as she regained control of her breathing. Bending her head down, she permitted herself a small smile. He was allowing her to do what she wanted inhishouse.
Why am I so free here?
Isobel soon returned to her side, and they moved on from paper chains to evergreens. Charity sat there, untangling sprigs of mistletoe from holly, occasionally pricking her fingers on the leaves. Isobel offered to do it for her, but she insisted on doing it herself, quite determined. The whole time, Shelby sat beside her, his tail wagging and thumping against the side of her leg, with his panting clearly noticeable.
“Well, who do we have here?” a voice Charity did not recognize sounded after some minutes.
“Oh no,” Isobel muttered the words and moved to the side, apparently busying herself with the task of draping the evergreens around the room.
Charity longed to ask what Isobel meant by such murmuring, but there was someone striding toward her now, their boots thudding against the floor in a way that was much louder than how the duke had walked.
“Good morning to you, my Lady,” the voice said with utter charm as he appeared to take the seat in front of Charity. “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Luke Baxter.”
“Good day to you, sir.” Charity bowed her head. She heard the momentary beat of silence and understood that in the pause, he was realizing she was blind and could not see him at all. “There are two of you,” she said in understanding, noting the difference in how the soles of the shoes sounded on the ground.
“It is Lord, and yes. You hear my good friend Monty at my shoulder. Heavy footfall, isn’t it?” Lord Baxter declared with a laugh. “Well, you are a pleasant surprise indeed. Who would think Seth was hiding you away in his house? Could I have the pleasure of knowing your name, my Lady?”
“Lady Charity,” she said simply, choosing not to give her surname or her father’s title. For now, the duke may be allowing her to stay here, but he had not said anything about letting other people know who she was.
“Ah.” It was a slightly delayed reaction, only momentary, before Lord Baxter adopted an easy manner once again. “Well, it is a great pleasure indeed to meet you, and I have to say how pleasant you have made this room look. Usually, this place is so empty and bare, but it is quite full of Christmas cheer now. Well done, Lady Charity. I thought no one would ever have such power over Seth to make him dress his house again.”
“It is nothing.” She shrugged. “I rather think he is allowing me to do it to please me.”
“Even more of a remarkable thing,” Lord Baxter said, with something akin to awe in his voice. “Seth does not do much for others usually, let alone allow another to dictate his actions.”
Charity stiffened with her hands over a sprig of mistletoe. This was not the impression she had of the duke. Time and time again, she had seen a man who was altruistic, who did things for others while expecting very little in return.
“Well, it is with great regret that I must leave you now for an audience with Seth.” Lord Baxter’s voice rose, showing he had stood once again. “But it was a wondrous pleasure indeed to see you here.” He stepped forward, and her hand was swiftly taken from the leaves. Charity halted, feeling something strange in that touch.
It was a far cry from the duke’s soft touch. This one was rather firm and not particularly pleasant. She thought she could feel sweat in the palm of his hand as he raised her hand to his lips and kissed the back. She flattened her lips together, trying not to betray on her face that she was not exactly sure what to make of such a kiss.
“I hope we shall cross paths again whilst I am in the house, my Lady.” He must have bowed to her, for she felt him lower her hand. Then he released her and stepped away.
This time, as he parted, she could distinctly hear the two sets of footsteps as they retreated.
“Isobel?” Charity called to her after they had gone. Shelby whimpered at her side, his tail no longer wagging so animatedly. “Who were they exactly?”
“Friends of the duke.” There was no joy in Isobel’s voice as she answered Charity.
“This is maddening,” Seth muttered as he walked around the billiards room. He had not realized just how far Charity’s influence was growing on this house in a matter of days. He had a stack of paperwork spread across the billiards table, all manners of investigative work that related to the fire, yet there were papers he could have sworn were missing. What was more, every time he turned around, he felt the evergreen draped from a candelabra over his head brush his temple. He swiped it away with an angry stretch of his hand.
“Well, well, you keeping secrets, old boy?”
Once more, Seth knocked that evergreen away as he turned to the door. Luke stood in the doorway, leaning lazily on the frame. Behind him, the rather large and overbearing shadow of Monty.
