For once his rage and regret had faded, it had been as though a veil had been lifted. Her words had rung incessantly in his ears until he’d been forced to admit that he had, in fact, been a blind, stubborn idiot, and that she was right about the house, and him, and Hal’s room.
There were no answers there. No redemption. Only grief.
Something everyone else seemed to have seen plainly. But for him, coming to terms with that had been the hardest part, and it had taken all his courage and strength to do so. Then to seek her out and say as much. To then be confronted with Mrs Ffoulkes’s words, and Tim’s...
Though the weight might feel as if it were lifting, Liam felt more confused and lost than ever. It was not in his nature to be so, and the worst part was that a voice somewhere deep inside told him that however troubling, unsettling and inconceivable it might be, Mrs Hardwicke might just be able to help him. Through whatever this was.
He had not lied when he’d said he wished for them to be friends. Improper thoughthatmight be. His housekeeper’s company seemed to calm and restore him. She soothed his soul, and not even his pride could prevent him from comprehending just how exceptional such a gift was. Selfish, perhaps, but then, he was not so foolish as to throw away what fate had sought to bring him.
Are you happy now, Hal?he thought, taking a moment to admire his accursed home before returning inside.I have made peace with her.
Liam could see her then, standing at her window wearing a smug smile of satisfaction.
Chapter Ten
‘So this is where you come when you are not haunting my library.’
Rebecca jumped a little at the sound of his voice, which, admittedly, did reverberate more than expected in the empty conservatory. He smiled reassuringly, approaching slowly so as not to scare her, though she looked more frightening to him in that moment. She had the look of a wraith, only the outline of her visible against the glass and the twilight.
‘I might’ve guessed.’
‘My lord,’ Rebecca said. ‘I didn’t hear you come in.’
‘But, please, do not even think about running away,’ he said, coming to stand beside her, directing his gaze out into the night in an attempt to make her more at ease. ‘I always loved this place, though when I was a boy it had more the air of a mysterious tropical jungle than now.’
‘It shall see better days, I’m sure. At least Mrs Murray has kept some life here.’
‘Ah, yes, the winter garden,’ Liam said, gazing to the far corner, which had been appropriated by his cook. ‘Most irregular, but then, who am I to say anything... I’m surprised you didn’t go with the others.’
‘I admit I preferred a quiet night, my lord. And I can see the bonfires well enough from here,’ she said, pointing towards the village below.
‘Ah, yes, right you are.’
‘And you, my lord? Not one for Guy Fawkes’s?’
‘I’m afraid not, Mrs Hardwicke,’ Liam said with a hollow chuckle. ‘I liked it well enough when I was a boy, but now...I do not think I would be as welcome, lord of this land as I am. Though I do enjoy fireworks. Do you think they shall have any this year?’
‘Indeed.’ Rebecca smiled, drawing his attention back to her.
She seemed so different in this light, in this moment. Relaxed, open, even. And yet there was still always a wariness in her eyes. Not of him, but of something more.
Would you let me ease your burden as you have eased mine?he longed to ask.
‘I have it on good authority from Gregory that this shall in fact be the best display in many years,’ she continued. ‘Though he might’ve been saying that to convince me to go.’
‘Yes, most likely.’
Liam stared out towards the village. The bonfires looked like nothing more than torches from here, though he could almost feel their heat, and hear the chants and songs of those dancing around them. An image appeared in his mind’s eye then, one, rather beguiling, of the restrained Mrs Hardwicke dancing around bonfires, hair unfurled, spirit free.
‘They are meant to ward off evil spirits, and bring luck,’ she offered after a moment. ‘At least, that is what the Chinese believe, I think.’
‘You are very knowledgeable, Mrs Hardwicke,’ Liam noted, studying her profile.
If he’d thought her ethereal before, that first night in the library, now... In the moonlight, the sharp lines of her features accentuated by the shadows of the night, she seemed almost an asrai, translucent creature of the night who might fade into a pool of rainbows should the sun touch her.
‘Wherever did you learn such things?’
‘Are housekeepers meant to be dull in your opinion, then, my lord?’
