“We thought you would be pleased, Damien. When the opportunity presented itself to make a few improvements, we seized upon it. I’m sorry you don’t approve. It was never our intention to annoy you.”
“Ourintention?” Damien slapped his hand down loudly on the desk and rose to his feet. “How disgustingly intimate you and Poole have become in my absence.”
“Lord Poole? He took no part in these decisions. Three women from the village have been hired on as day maids, and a male chef is now installed in the kitchen.Jenkinsasked for my assistance in this matter, and we interviewed these new servants together. He and I are responsible for the changes at The Grange.”
Damien returned Isabella’s piercing stare. “Is Jenkins also responsible for your new wardrobe?”
Isabella felt herself coloring, and her defiant stance withered fractionally. Although she enjoyed her lovely new gowns, she did not feel entirely comfortable with the notion of wearing garments that had once belonged to Emmeline. Jenkins had repeatedly assured her the earl would not object, but Isabella secretly feared Damien would think she had done something horribly inappropriate when he discovered the truth.
“This was Emmeline’s gown,” Isabella said quietly, her fingers smoothing the soft folds of the green muslin skirt. “Lord Poole gave me several of her dresses. Jenkins thought it permissible for me to accept them, but I shall return the garments to Lord Poole if it upsets you to see me wearing them.”
Damien’s mouth dropped open. “What the devil is Poole doing with Emmeline’s clothes? Does he travel about the countryside with her garments packed away in his luggage?”
Isabella let out a nervous giggle. “What a ridiculous notion, Damien. Don’t be absurd.”
The earl gritted his teeth. “I suggest you tread carefully, my dear. My patience has been sorely tried this afternoon.”
“So has mine, my lord.”
She had the satisfaction of seeing him momentarily speechless. Capitalizing on her advantage, Isabella quickly added, “This dress came from the armoire in Emmeline’s bedchamber. It is filled with gowns, most of which were never worn.”
“I remember now,” Damien said, his eyes involuntarily sweeping over Isabella. “After Emmeline disappeared, Jenkins and I searched her bedchamber. I recall thinking it strange that she kept such an extensive wardrobe here, since she came to The Grange so infrequently.”
“I will not wear the gowns if you object,” Isabella reiterated.
As Damien pondered her words, Isabella saw the anger diminish from his eyes. “It seems a ludicrous waste to let the clothes become food for the moths,” he finally said. “Besides, you look very pretty.”
Isabella fought back a smile. The compliment was sincerely if begrudgingly given. “Thank you, Damien.”
The earl shifted from one foot to the other, then walked out from behind his desk and began prowling around the study. He appeared restless and uneasy, but to Isabella’s relief, no longer angry. Eventually Damien paused by the fire and idly picked up the poker.
The tension gradually eased from the air. Isabella found herself watching his hands, mesmerized, as they prodded the smouldering logs, sending showers of glittering sparks leaping among the flames. The heavy gold signet ring on Damien’s left hand gleamed in the firelight, and the memory of the feel of cool metal on her warm flesh sent a tremor of excitement through Isabella.
She cleared away the lump in her throat. Damien turned at the strangled sound, and Isabella berated herself for being caught staring at him with such blatant expectancy in her expression.
Seeming to read her thoughts, Damien flashed her a wickedly inviting smile and moved nearer. Isabella’s stomach clenched. Damien looked so strong and vital, the romantic light cast by the burning fire emphasizing his handsome, rugged features. His broad shoulders and muscular chest filled her vision, and Isabella felt a tremor run through her body.
Unable to stop herself, she reached out a trembling hand and rested it upon his shoulder. Damien cocked his head to one side and looked down at her in a way that made her knees feel weak and her heart beat at twice its normal rhythm. His smoldering, heavy-lidded gaze made her achingly aware of how lonely she had been without him.
“I missed you,” she whispered softly.
“Thank God,” Damien murmured with relief. He stroked her cheek gently with his forefinger. “I thought about you constantly.”
The room was warm, but Isabella could feel goosebumps on her arms. His gaze dropped suggestively to her mouth and she nervously flicked out her tongue.
“Where did you go?” she asked.
“I’ll tell you later.”
Damien bent his head and softly kissed her lips. Isabella eagerly welcomed him, shutting her eyes at the delicious pleasure she felt when his tongue explored her mouth.
She raised her arms, clasping them tightly around his broad back. He felt solid and powerful, inspiring a sweet sense of security. Damien had haunted her thoughts nearly every hour he had been gone from The Grange. Being held so lovingly in his arms made Isabella realize how much he meant to her, how truly incomplete she felt without him.
Worries about her future, her past, even this very moment, faded as Isabella savored the feelings of love that burned in her heart. It was a true testament to the mysterious power of love that she and this proud, worldly man shared a closeness that endured no matter what their differences. Isabella offered a silent, selfish prayer that this oftentimes bumpy, yet blissfully exciting relationship would continue.
Damien’s teeth raked the delicate skin of Isabella’s throat, causing a restless urgency within her. Smiling, she pressed herself closer to him, smelling the fragrant smoke from the fire mingled with the musky male scent of his body. It was pure heaven.
“Shouldn’t you lock the door?” she whispered breathlessly.
