He pursed his lips. She wasn’t wrong there. In inclement weather outside it was sometimes a struggle to communicate. A slowdown in what they were doing could mean damage to his property or even injury to his people. But he looked at Charlotte, still gorgeous and sophisticated even with her dress half unfastened and her hair around her shoulders, and had a hard time picturing her slogging through the rain and mud in her gown.
“You’ll get soaked,” he protested swiftly. “And be cold.”
She shrugged. “I have a few heavier gowns and most of them are in mourning colors. I wouldn’t be sad to see them destroyed. I even have boots, since I visited Meg and Simon before coming here and Meg loves to take walks through the property, rain or shine.”
Ewan sighed. Once again, it was impossible to say no to her. She stepped up and leaned in to kiss him gently. “You can’t break me, Ewan. I’m stronger than I look.”
“I never doubted that,” he signed slowly.
She touched his cheek and then turned her back. “Fasten me, will you? Then I’ll run and change into something old and ugly and pull my hair back. It won’t be a quarter of an hour, I promise you. Enough time for you to make any other arrangements.”
He buttoned her, trying to ignore the jolts of awareness when his fingertips brushed her soft skin. Then he turned her to face him. “You must promise me you’ll be careful,” he signed.
She nodded. “Always, Ewan. I’ll meet you in the foyer in two shakes!”
With that, she gathered her slippers and rushed from the room, leaving him to stare after her. He’d thought today might be a way to distance himself from the way Charlotte wrapped herself so easily around him.
But now it was about to turn into a view into his very soul for her, and a look into hers, too. Because he well knew that the way those of rank dealt with regular people said a lot about who they were. In her, he had no doubt he would see kindness, but also the distance that her rank required.
And she would see how much he belonged in the common rabble. What she did with that knowledge remained to be seen.
Chapter Five
“Your Grace!” a man cried out as Ewan dismounted from his horse. He offered a hand to Charlotte to help her do the same, but didn’t linger as he turned to the men gathered beside the now-raging river.
Charlotte frowned as she looked at it. She could see exactly why Ewan was so concerned—the water was licking dangerously close to several of the homes of his tenants. But the men had already been working. There was a huge pile of sand in the middle of the cluster of homes and a dozen men shoveled it into bags that were then taken over to build the makeshift dike that was beginning to form to protect the buildings.
“It’s worse than last year,” said the man who had approached, his eyes a little wide. “We’re grateful to have your help.”
Ewan cast a glance at Charlotte and she hustled forward as he began to sign. “His Grace says that he’s happy to be here and sorry he didn’t build the retaining wall last summer.”
The man looked at her with confusion, and she smiled to ease his mind. “I’m Lady Portsmith,” she said, extending a hand. “I’m here to help.”
The man blinked as he bowed over it. “Er, Marcus Chadworth, my lady. I’m the duke’s foreman.”
“Nice to meet you. Now tell me where to help,” she said, turning toward Ewan.
His cheeks were slightly flushed even as rain cascaded down them. He looked entirely uncomfortable, and she frowned. She wanted her presence to be a help, not a hindrance or an embarrassment.
“Perhaps you could assist with the women and children for now,” Mr. Chadworth suggested with a quick glance at Ewan. “The ones in these three homes must move.”
“Of course,” she said, stepping away as the two men joined the others in making and hauling the sandbags. Ewan didn’t pull his notebook out as he approached, but raised a hand and was greeted, warmly and respectfully, by those in his employ and under his protection. He cast one glance at her, then grabbed a shovel and joined in making sandbags.
She sucked in a breath and forced herself not to stand like a ninny, staring at him. Though she could have done that all day, for his muscles moved in a fascinating way beneath his coat.
Instead, she moved toward the houses he had indicated were to be evacuated. There were wagons in front of each, half loaded with the pieces of the lives of those within. She shook her head at the fear on the face of a woman who exited the first house, dragging a trunk behind her.
“Here, let me help,” Charlotte insisted, rushing up to grab the other end. Together they lifted it onto the back of the wagon.
“Thank you,” the woman said, wiping rain from her brow. Tears sparkled in her eyes. “I’m much obliged.”
“Certainly,” Charlotte said. “I’m here to help. Give me a vocation and I will do whatever I can.”
The woman stiffened and stared at Charlotte a bit more closely. “You’re alady,” she said.
Charlotte smiled. “I suppose I am.”
The woman backed away. “You needn’t trouble yourself, my lady.”
