He’d been sleeping in the study so that she and her helpers could put the finishing touches on his bedroom. “Lead the way.”
They headed up the newly refinished stairs, the scent of fresh stain filling the air.
“I’m nervous to show you this.” She paused at a heavy oak door, her hand hesitating on the brass handle.
“But you must. I trust you completely.”
The door swung open, and James fell silent.
Where there had once been peeling wallpaper and water stains now stood a room of commanding elegance. Deep slate-blue walls rose around him, paneled and adorned with gilded moldings that caught the afternoon light. Elaborate plasterwork panels featured intricate medallion designs, their craftsmanship unmistakable. His gaze traveled upward to the ceiling, where a circular medallion radiated outward in concentric patterns of carved plaster, centered by a brass chandelier with glowing globe-shaped lights.
“This is…” Words failed him entirely.
“Too much?” She watched his face carefully.
“No. Not at all. Extraordinary is the right word. It’s fit for a king.”
“Or perhaps a lord?”
The bed dominated the space, with an intricately carved headboard featuring metallic accents that echoed the room’s gilded details. It was dressed in layers of midnight blue coverlets and pillows, a burgundy throw folded precisely at its foot. A wooden bench, carved with the same attention to detail as the bed, sat at the foot.
Tall windows that had been drafty and bare now wore sumptuous blue velvet curtains with gold tasseled valances. Beside them stood a blue upholstered armchair that looked the perfect place to read or reflect.
The herringbone-patterned wooden floor gleamed beneath an oriental rug in blues and golds. Wall sconces cast a warm glow against the rich walls, complementing the soft light from elegant table lamps placed on ornately carved bedside tables.
“The writing desk was refinished and I’m pleased with how it turned out.” She gestured toward a polished mahogany piece near the window. “The globe belonged to your grandfather, according to Mrs. Ellsworth.”
“Yes, I remember it. And the desk. My father used to write his correspondence there.” He could almost see his father’s careful handwriting, the way he’d pause to consider each word.
James moved slowly into the room, awe washing over him. It was as if she’d looked directly into his soul and created his perfect sanctuary. “How did you do it? It’s exactly what I wanted, even though I didn’t know it myself.”
“Would you like to know where I got my inspiration?” She stood framed in the doorway, her practical blue dress a stark contrast to the opulence surrounding them.
“I would indeed.”
A slight flush colored her cheeks. “This will sound silly, but I thought of your eyes. Their blue is reflected throughout the room.”
“Is this how you see me?” The words escaped before he could stop them.
“Yes. As I said when we spoke about the design initially—elegant yet masculine. Deep blue runs through the core of you, reflected in your eyes.” She paused, her voice growing softer. “Blue’s my favorite color.”
“Is it?” He caught her gaze, his stomach fluttering in a way that had become familiar whenever she looked at him like this.
“I didn’t know it was until I saw the particular hue of your blue eyes. They stir a soul, Lord Ashford.”
The intimacy of standing in his private quarters, of hearing herspeak about his eyes, about souls made his chest and other unmentionable parts tighten with longing.
“You stir my soul, Georgie. You’ve made a place for me that feels safe. A room where I can think and dream and plan.” His voice came out rougher than intended. “Thank you.”
“Decorating your haven brought me much joy. I wanted to make it a place reflective of your goodness, your loyalty to those you love and the care you’ve given to the community in the short time you’ve been here.” Her flush deepened. “That you see what I tried to do pleases me to no end.”
“I see you, Georgie. In every part of this room.”
The thought ambushed him, swift and undeniable. He wanted her here with him. In this room. In his bed. The desire was so sudden and fierce it nearly staggered him.
Was he falling in love with his architect?
No. Of course not. It was only that she was lovely and intelligent. He craved her company, but that wasn’t love. Admiration, perhaps. Desire, certainly.
