Her body reacted violently to the memory of his ministrations. Her hand curled around the edge of the counter of its own volition.
Someone rapped on the door, promptly stifling her improper thoughts. Amelia, clearing her throat, bid them to enter.
“I had not expected to find you here alone.”
An all too familiar voice caused Amelia to spin around.
Nicholas stood in the doorway, dressed in a fine grey coat and matching britches. He held his hat at his side, a surprised smile gracing his cold-nipped face.
“I—I was merely attending to some bookkeeping,” Amelia stammered, her mouth going dry. “Had you… Had you mentioned you were coming today? You know how forgetful I can be.”
“No, not at all.” He stepped inside, finding a relatively clean spot to set down his hat. “I have just come from Mr. Claridon’s offices.”
“Your solicitor? Why?”
She tensed. Was he about to announce that he was putting an end to their marriage earlier than planned? It had been less than a week! Certainly not enough time to convince society that their marriage had been genuine.
“Primarily, the sale of the dower house. But there were other matters to discuss, too. He has been tasked with drafting a document for me.” Nicholas looked around the kitchen, visibly unimpressed by the state of the house. “A deed of trust for this home.”
“Pardon?” Amelia swallowed hard, her brow furrowing. “You mean for St. George’s? I never asked you to write a deed of that sort.”
“Yes, I know. But we had a verbal agreement, you and I, that I would see this place funded properly. I saw no reason to delay. The deed has officially institutionalized this orphanage. I considered a royal charter but felt that was highly unnecessary. Better to leave the orphanage under your control.”
“I… I hardly know what to say.” Tears stung her eyes, and she blinked them away. “That was so very kind of you.”
“Ah, well.” He cleared his throat, visibly unnerved by her emotional response. “I am only acting as we agreed. The document is perpetual, with a yearly maintenance provided by the Avon estate until either my death or the closure of St. George’s.”
He crossed the room and stood before her, sliding her ledger toward him and opening it. He shrugged out of his coat, and Amelia took it.
“I am having Mr. Claridon write that miser Robinson to inquire about purchasing the building outright,” he added. “I see no reason we should continue to rent for him. Should the orphanage fail, I could turn this house into a… Oh, Lord. Who knows? Apartments? Was that not what Robinson intended in the first place?”
Amelia nodded, barely containing her excitement. She watched Nicholas flip through the ledger and settle on the latest tables, oblivious to the magnitude of his kindness and its effect on her.
“I feel I must do something for you in return,” she murmured.
He arched a brow. “Tea will suffice. My agenda for this afternoon is painfully empty. I could—” He gasped, staring down open-mouthed at the pages. “Who the devil has been managing your accounts? Was it you? No, this will not do. Your ciphering skills are abysmal, Amelia.”
“Oh. I am… sorry?”
“No,Ishall be sorry if I do not put these numbers to order immediately, especially if we are going to be purchasing this place.”
Largely ignoring her—who stood lamely, still holding his coat—Nicholas dragged a tall wooden stool around and set to work, raking a hand through his dark hair as he inspected the ledger before him.
Minutes later, she returned with a pot of tea. She placed it down beside him, smiling foolishly at the sight of him so hard at work, the furrow in his brow.
“You look drained already,” she said, pouring a cup for him. The scent of black tea wafted into the air. “My governess used to tell me that I had a mathematician’s mind, so I take offence at thenotion that I could have mismanaged the accounts to the degree you say I have.Actually…”
She paused, dropping a teaspoon of sugar into his teacup and stirring, remembering that was how he took his tea. “Mr. Marsh tends to the books usually. He is likely to blame.”
“Then Mr. Marsh should return to the university whence he came and attend a few lectures on numbers.” Nicholas took the tea when she offered it to him and paused, inspecting the cup.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he said, placing it down again.
Though she swore she saw a quickly suppressed smile play on his mouth.
“Would you…” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I had planned to rehearse the play with the children this afternoon. Would it bother you greatly if I abandoned you to your task?”
