It was less than ten minutes later when he found his mind wandering again, thinking about the moment he corrected Miss Pembroke’s form.
She’d felt so small as he reached around her, his arms easily engulfing her, able to protect her should she need it. His hands had only covered hers for an instant, but it was enough to notice the softness of her skin. His fingers tingled again just thinking of it. And her hair had been right under his nose—he’d had to restrain himself from breathing deeply, inhaling the scent of her floral soap.
Leaning back in his chair, Ethan let out a groan and rubbed his eyes—lord but he was tired—when he was startled by an inquiry coming from the doorway.
“I’m sorry . . . is this a bad time?”
Bolting upright to a correct posture, he discovered the very woman he was trying valiantlynotto think of before him. Clutching a sheaf of papers to her chest, Alice chewed at her bottom lip, appearing unsure if she should interrupt him.
“Not at all,” he replied, motioning her in and wishing his rapid pulse to quiet. “Is there something I can help you with?”
Pulling a chair up to the desk she laid down her papers. Still worrying that bottom lip, his eyes were trained on her mouth. Though her lips began to move, he did not comprehend the words she was saying, focused instead on the rose tint that blossomed there after scrapping her teeth over the delicate, plump skin.
“Mr. Beaumont?”
“I’m sorry,” he said, snapping his head up with a shake. “I’m afraid my mind was wandering. I tend to lose focus when I don’t sleep well.”
“And that’s my fault, I’m afraid.” She offered a small, sad smile.
“No, mine. I was bothered by how badly I’d treated you. But we already decided to leave the past where it belongs.” He cleared his throat, suddenly emotional at the thought of causing her upset. “What can I help you with?”
“Well—” Alice took in a deep breath, shoulders lifting with the effort. “I’d like to make some changes to the garden design.”
Ethan’s mind began racing with all the potential ripple effects should large changes to plans be needed, affecting timetables for completion. Some of his alarm must have come across in his expression, as Miss Pembroke quickly interjected, “I’m not proposing changes to the layout, simply what plants we are including and where.”
Ethan forcibly exhaled in relief. This he could deal with. God help the woman if she’d wanted to dig new pathways, though he strongly suspected he might allow her to do anything she liked. Letting himself smile in his newfound ease, he extended his hand. “Let me see what you’ve dreamed up.”
Ethan watched in amazement as Alice’s eyes lit up before him, the deep brown pools surrounding her irises suddenly shining like mahogany polished to a reflective gleam. Had so few people ever given her the space to let her creativity flourish? She was clearly enjoying this project, he could begrudgingly admit Priscilla had been onto something with putting her cousin in charge, but she still seemed hesitant. Maybe he needed to be more forthright in sharing his admiration for her design.
Grabbing the papers to hand to Ethan, he noticed her wince slightly as she passed the designs into his hand.
“What’s wrong?” Concern eked out of him before having a chance to temper the force of his delivery and she slightly flinched at the assertiveness of his question.
“I’m fine,” Alice offered meekly, quickly tucking her hands into her lap.
“No, you’re not. I saw your face twist in pain.”
“My hands are just a bit sore from this morning. Nothing I can’t handle.” Her rosebud lips were now pursed together, his eyes drawn to them again. He didn’t enjoy making her apprehensive, but the effect on her person was quite lovely to look at.
“May I see them?” he asked gently, trying to put her back at ease.
Lifting her hands automatically in compliance to his question, she faltered halfway—hesitating with her hands hovering over the edge of the desk, fingers tensed. Lifting her eyes, Alice searched his own before slowly extending her arms the rest of the way, rotating her hands to reveal her palms. Gently placing the backs of her hands within his own, he understood she was offering a part of herself to him in this moment, letting herself be vulnerable, and he would not abuse her trust.
Looking down, Ethan saw angry red lines crossing her palms where they had slipped across the handle of the shovel in the cold. Patches of skin had broken open revealing raw wounds. He ever so gently extended her fingers from their curled, protective position to get a fuller view and saw an angry blister at the base of her thumb, in the tender place where it met the rest of her palm. She winced and twitched slightly, as if her instinct was to move her hand away. But when he placed slight pressure on the pad of her thumb, she stilled and allowed him to remain holding her hands while he continued examining for further injury.
“Why didn’t you say anything this morning?” he prodded softly. “You didn’t have anything to prove to me.”
“Yes, I did.” Her response was just as quiet, like she was scared that to speak louder would somehow shatter the momentbetween them. “But more importantly, I had something to prove to myself.”
That Ethan understood completely, and he admired her for it. There was definitely more to Miss Pembroke than he had given her credit for, he only had to look closer and uncover that side of her.
“These need to be wrapped, may I?” Ethan had already set her hands down on the desk and was reaching for a drawer when she nodded her acceptance. He pulled out a tin of salve and strips of soft cotton fabric and her eyes widened with curiosity.
“Are you always so prepared?” she asked.
“These types of injuries are common when doing manual labor, I like to keep some items on hand for circumstances such as these.”
Ethan opened the tin before ever so carefully picking up her delicate right hand and gently rubbing a bit of the salve into her palm.
