“Now the nursery and servant quarters aren’t livable, given the roof leaks, but once the tenant houses are finished, the lieutenant should focus on that—”
“Not anymore,” Rhys said from the doorway, startling both women.
“Pardon?”
“I mean, now that Mrs. Carlyle is here, I suspect the rooms will be ready come the winter. I have a man from Brighton coming at the end of the week, an architect who has assured me that he’ll be able to ready the main house if he has someone guiding him.” Rhys nodded at Louisa. “I believe you’ll be able to manage.”
Louisa paled.
“But I don’t know anything about architecture.”
“No matter,” he said, coming fully into the room. “The house is up to your discretion. Change everything and anything you want.”
“But I don’t know how.”
Rhys and Mrs. Crawford shared a look before the older woman excused herself from the room.
“I’ll just go find Mr. Crawford and see how supper’s coming along.”
She quickly disappeared and Louisa stared at Rhys. Once they were alone, she stepped towards him.
“I appreciate your faith in me, but I don’t know the first thing about repairing houses and what not.”
Rhys held out his hand.
“Come with me.”
Hesitantly, she took his hand and though she tried to ignore it, Louisa couldn’t begin to understand why placing her small hand in his large and calloused one made her feel all sorts of things. Warm, hot, small, protected. Protected? From what, she didn’t know, but if there was ever a word to describe being near this man, that was it.
He led her out of the bedroom, down the hall, and up a narrow flight of stairs. The third floor was very dark, as the windows appeared covered in dirt. Cobwebs hung from every corner and large brown spots littered the plaster above their heads.
Rhys brought her into a room where a wooden bedframe, a stool, and an end table sat. It was damp, humid, and smelled awful.
“What would you do here first?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“Try.”
Louisa looked around. Firstly, she’d like to wash the window and open it, so that she could breathe easier, but that didn’t have anything to do with repairs.
“Where should I start?”
“What looks as though it’s in most need of repairs?”
That was simple. The stone fireplace was partially crumbled away. She pointed at it, and he turned to see it before looking back at her.
“What would you have done to it?”
“I would have it rebuilt of course.”
He nodded.
“I suppose so. Is that all?”
Louisa looked up to see the large brown spots on the ceiling. She pointed upward as she continued to face him, so that he might see her lips.
“The ceiling would need to be tended to. I’m assuming those are leaky spots?” He nodded. “Yes, then the ceiling would be next. Then a good, throughout cleaning. Remove the old furniture, see if it’s repairable—”
