“Can’t abide what?” He leaned forward to hear her better.
She cleared her throat. “It is somewhat embarrassing to admit.”
“Come, come. You just said that fears are nothing to be ashamed of.”
She felt a light blush rise. “I don’t like little crawly animals.”
“Crawly animals?” He cocked his head to the side. “Insects?”
“Spiders. Horrid creatures. So there.” She giggled. “I’ve never been so wet before.” The rain kept drumming on their heads but somehow, it didn’t matter.
The cart rumbled in front of Rosethistle Cottage, and Arabella pulled back the ribbons.
Mr Merivale jolted back into the present as if registering only now that they were sitting in the rain. “Right. Let’s get into the dry.”
He jumped down and held out his hand. She grabbed it, but he prevented her from descending. He pulled her towards him, so she was on the same level as his odd, green eyes. They had rusty flecks in them.
Rain dripped from the rim of his hat.
“Tell me one thing, Miss Weston.” His voice was low, and he held her hand in an iron grip that hurt. “As for those fibs you told earlier today—I want the truth now. Will you swear to tell me the truth?”
She nodded.
“Did Morley send you?”
Frowning, she tilted her head aside, which caused rain to drip directly onto her face again. She spluttered and wiped it away with a hand. “Who?”
“Morley.” A touch of impatience laced his voice. He gripped her hand even tighter.
“I’ve never heard the name. Who is it? I answered your daughter’s ad in the newspaper. It is the truth.”
He stared at her for a moment longer, his lips pressed to an uncompromising line. Then she saw him transform within a second. The stubbornness of his chin relaxed, his eyes widened and crinkled in the corners, and a look of ruefulness entered them.
“Of course, you wouldn’t know. But I had to ask. I needed to know whether I could — trust you.”
“Of course, you can trust me.” Arabella’s voice was breathless.
They were frozen in time. Arabella stopped feeling the rain and the cold wind about her. All she saw was that man whose eyes lit up with an inner light when he smiled.
Something flipped in her stomach.
“Room, board, and eight pounds per annum,” he announced as he held out his hand.
It took Arabella a moment to realise he was giving her a job offer. She grasped his hand without thinking. “Deal.”
“Welcome to the wondrous and chaotic home of the Merivales, inventors extraordinaire. You will come to regret it.” A boyish grin lit up his face. “But let’s get inside now.”
Arabella stepped across the threshold of Rosethistle Cottage.
“And Miss Weston.”
She turned. He’d taken off his hat and his dark auburn hair was plastered to his head. He looked bashful.
“Thank you.” He didn’t wait for her reply but turned to take horse and cart to the safe shelter of the barn.
She knew what he was thanking her for. In some way she felt she’d rescued him, when it should have been the other way around. A warm feeling pooled in the pit of her stomach.
“You are welcome, sir.”
