While he left, Cassian donned a loose lawn shirt and unbuttoned the collar to release his throat and allow his chest to breathe. Donning boots, he accepted the coffee Andrews sent up, then headed out to the backyard and the outbuilding.
He stomped over the tall grass and went to the door. Pulling it in, he stepped into the dim interior. The large front room had scattered furniture, some chairs were broken, and he skirted the sagging roof.
Ducking under a crumbling doorway, he spied the other smaller rooms; one would be suitable for a billiards and a card table, while the room beyond that could become a washing room.
The last room was fit enough to be a living quarters, where he could fit a bed, a chest of drawers for clothes, and even a small table and chair.
“I can turn this around,” he murmured to himself.
His eyes landed on the faded blue wallpaper around him. He walked to the banked fireplace and rested a hand on the paper. He knew what was behind it.
Stepping out, he found Cerberus sniffing at bushes, and when a rabbit leaped out, he took off after it. Laughing, he watched the hound hunt the poor animal until he called the dog to his side and shooed the rabbit away.
Crouching, he rubbed the dogs’ ears and said, “Remind me to take you hunting the next time I’m invited to a hunting party.”
He headed to a shed across the lawn, then pulled a wheelbarrow, a ladder, and a sledgehammer from the storage place.
Taking both of them to the outbuilding, he set the ladder on the side of the house closest to where the sagging roof was. Climbing up, he braced a foot on the edge of the roof, lifted the hammer, and swung.
A flicker of something in the left of her eye drew Cecilia’s attention, and she dropped her book to look closer. Her heart leaped into her throat and lodged there as she watched Cassian swinging a hammer into the sagging roof of the outbuilding.
“Is he mad?!” she gasped.
He was teetering on the edge, inches away from losing his balance and falling to his death. Frightened and angered, she dropped her book and dashed out, deciding to confront him.
The thick grass hampered her steps, and burrs caught on her petticoats, but Cecilia was determined to get to Cassian.
Almost twenty feet away, she stopped, shielded her eyes from the sun, and shouted, “What in god’s name are you doing?!”
Cassian straightened and let the handle of the sledgehammer slip so it dangled by his side. Craning his head over his shoulder, he called down, “Go back inside! This does not concern you.”
“If you are planning on making me a one-day widow, yes, it does concern me!” she bristled. “Do you know how close you are to the edge of this… thisshack?”
His lids were lowered over his eyes. “I have excellent balance, but thank you for your concern.”
“You were drunk this morning,” she remarked. “And now you are doingconstruction? You are truly a candidate for bedlam!”
CHAPTER 9
“To a degree, yes, I am!” Cassian shouted back, lifting the hammer again. “Go back in the house, Cecilia. I know you are a busybody and a termagant, but this has nothing to do with you, and I am not fond of repeating myself.”
Scowling, Cecilia trudged back to the house, passing by a few grounds men whom she nodded to. Inside, she muttered, “If that fool is decided on playing God and tempting fate, so be it. He cannot say I did not warn him.”
Heading to her rooms, she wanted to see how far the butler and his men had gotten, only to be happily surprised that the shelves were all stocked with books. All of them were dusted and arranged by subject.
“There are a lot of law books here…” she murmured. “Thatisin keeping. Dukes are supposed to know the law and use it to benefit the people of our country….”
As she assessed the books, she found something odd: the abundance of astronomy books and maps about constellations. It seemed incongruous with Cassian’s personality, didn’t it?
Replacing the books, she turned around the bare space and tried to imagine how to decorate the place.
“A set of couches there…” She pointed to a part of the room, “…my writing desk there, a rug in the middle, and a tea table. Maybe a cupboard over there to hold cushions and blankets in case I stay here reading for the night. I may add some painting on the walls.”
Trailing her fingers over one of the walls, she wondered if it made sense to redo the wallpaper as well. The faded blue did not sit well with her.
Tapping her chin, she wondered what was best, a portrait or a landscape. She did leave the room with a tentative plan in place and, taking her pencil, found a scrap of paper and jotted her ideas down.
Cecilia found herself drifting to the library again and right to the seat where she saw Cassian still slamming on the roof of the outbuilding.
