“Don’t believe everything you read,” he said wryly.
“I tried my best.” She lowered her head, speaking to the tips of her worn shoes. “Truly I did. I’m sorry I made a hash of things.”
His enjoyment of their byplay faded. He felt as if he’d kicked a baby fawn.
“You made a bad meal,” he said gruffly. “You haven’t committed murder or some other unpardonable sin.”
She bit her lip, her eyes wide.
He sighed. “Try to do better next time.”
“Next time? You…you are not going to sack me?”
Hope flickered on her face, causing an odd constriction in his chest.
“Over the eggs and blood sausage? No.”
“There was the incident with the bats too,” she said in a small voice.
“Mistakes I can tolerate. The one thing I will not tolerate is being lied to,” he said firmly. “If you lack knowledge in a certain area of housekeeping, I expect you to be honest. About your weaknesses and your strengths. Only then can we make the best use of your time here.”
“That is very understanding of you, my lord.”
Her gratitude made him uncomfortable. He hadn’t offered much. She was still in charge of dealing with the filthy, tumbledown manor where he’d chosen to lick his wounds. She still had to deal withhim. Damaged, short-tempered, and a shadow of the man he once was. Who was such a failure that his family fretted over him endlessly and his fiancée left him for another. Reality crashed over him like an ice-cold wave. He couldn’t even find a proper housekeeperandentertained improper thoughts about the one he did have.
I’m a bloody wreck. This is why I need to be alone. I’m not fit to be around others.
“My lord?”
“What is it?”
He didn’t mean to snap, and his lack of restraint shamed him. Luckily, Mrs. Wood did not seem hurt. Instead, she…brightened?
“I am good with books,” she blurted.
He frowned. “I beg your pardon?”
“Before I was a housekeeper, I worked in a few bookshops.”
Since her explanation explained nothing, he continued to look at her blankly.
“Your library needs to be unpacked,” she reminded him. “You said to be forthcoming about my strengths, and, well, I could organize your books. In my spare time, of course, after I’ve dealt with more pressing household matters. And if I’m not stepping on Brunswick’s toes.”
After his boorish behavior, Ethan couldn’t deny her earnest request. Truth be told, Brunswick would be grateful to be relieved of the task. Sorting out the room would give Mrs. Wood something to do…and even she couldn’t wreak havoc with a bunch of books.
“Have at it,” Ethan said. “And look for someone in the village to help with the cooking. Consult Brunswick, if necessary.”
“I will. Thank you, sir. You shan’t regret keeping me on,” she promised.
She flashed him a smile that made him regret a lot of things. Mostly, he wondered what would have happened if they’d met under different circumstances.
If she wasn’t his housekeeper.
If he had something to offer other than failure.
If he was the man he used to be.
If, if, if.
