Silence hung for a moment.
Her eyes returned to him—incapable, it seemed, of staying away—helplessly searching for the missing pieces that would complete the puzzle of him. How had he received that dreadful scar? How much had he endured for King and Country? How many battles fought?
And why did the thought of his suffering make her heart ache?
She was the veriest fool.
Yet, all she could do was rally her courage. “So how may I help ye, Captain? I am quite sure ye didnae ride your fine horse down from Laverloch simply tae admire the chippedcloisonnévase in the Penn-Leith’s parlor.”
She waved a hand toward the sideboard and said chipped vase, brimming with some of Aileen’s peonies. The chipping had been a casualty of a rambunctious sword fight between her brothers one Michaelmas when Ethan was home on holiday.
Captain Carnegie gave the faintest trace of a smile. “You have been recommended as a woman of uncommon good sense, Miss Penn-Leith.”
He had a deep voice, raspy and smoke-tinged. The sort that scraped along her skin and set gooseflesh on end.
This . . . she didnotremember from those hours so long ago. The past twenty years of life had likely honed his voice into that husky edge.
Moreover, nothing in Fox Carnegie’s demeanor suggested he recognized Leah herself. Any thought she had entertained—that he might recall their brief acquaintance at a house party some twenty years ago—fled.
He did not remember her in the slightest. Why would he?
The tiniest flicker of hope died in her chest.
Foolish, lass.
Somehow Leah kept these thoughts off her face. After all, he wasn’t misinformed; shewasa woman of exceptional good sense.
“Might I ask a few questions?” he continued.
“Of course.”
“Water leaks into Laverloch when it rains. What would you recommend to remedy the problem?”
“You’ve ridden clear down the glen tae ask me about . . . drips?” Leah frowned. “Isnae that a task your housekeeper or land steward would attend tae?”
Or your wife,she did not deign to add. Whathadhappened to Miss Honoria Hampstead, his one-time betrothed?
And was it her imagination, or did Captain Carnegie sigh at her words?
“Had I a housekeeper or a land steward, Miss Penn-Leith, I would relish in passing this matter off to them.” Dry humor laced his words.
Leah felt her own brow soften.
Well, she would be neighborly and answer his questions. “Tae stop the water dripping, Captain Carnegie, ye simply need tae arrange for Tam Farquar to check your slates.”
“My . . . slates?”
“Aye, your roof tiles. If water is coming in, then ye must have a broken roof slate somewhere. Tam Farquar, and his son, Wee Tam, are the best slaters hereabouts.”
Her ready answer appeared to nonplus him. He swallowed, the motion drawing her eye to his Adam’s apple and the beginnings of whiskers darkening his jaw.
She took in a deep breath and ordered her eyesto stop ogling this manwith only marginal success.
“And if I needed a competent housekeeper?” he asked. “My solicitor in Aberdeen hires staff for me on the regular, but they never last long.”
Of course, they didn’t. That hardly surprised Leah.
“Being a servant in Aberdeen would be a wee bitty different from being one in a castle up an Angus glen, I ken.” Leah tried to keep her tone gentle. No need for the captain to think she was criticizing, but anyone in Fettermill could tell him that hiring staff from so far afield was a recipe for disaster. “I suppose the isolation and our different way of doing things would get tae some rather quickly. How fine a housekeeper do ye be wanting?”
