His back was to her, so she had an opportunity to escape. Only she didn’t. Instead she froze as he reached up to casually place the book back on the shelf an arm’s length above him. His shoulders flexed against the white linen fabric of his shirt.
Once he had replaced the book, he turned and flashed a smile at her that revealed even, white teeth. It was not as if he was surprised to see her, he seemed to have known she was there gaping at him all along.
“Good afternoon, Lady Elizabeth,” he drawled.
She shifted. He was being nothing but polite to her, and she still wished to run in the other direction. It was very rude to be that way when he’d done nothing directly wrong. She was just judging him by another man with another face. It was unfair and she knew it.
“G-good afternoon, Mr. Banfield,” she managed to squeak out. She took a cautious step farther into the library. “Are you settling in well?”
He nodded as he looked around with a smile. “It is a fine estate, which your brother told me I could explore at my leisure. I was making the attempt when I was waylaid here. It is the best room of the house so far.”
She blinked, for she agreed about the assessment. She didn’t like being of a mind with him. It felt…a little like a trap. She cleared her throat. “The, er, music room is another of my favorite haunts.”
Now why had she told him that? He certainly couldn’t care about her tiny little interests. Nor should she offer them to him as if he were anything more than a stranger.
But to her surprise, his eyes lit up. “Ah, I have not yet found the music room. I assume you play pianoforte?”
She nodded. “I do.”
“I have been known to play a tune or two, myself,” he said with another smile. This one felt a bit more genuine.
She stared at him. He liked to read and to play piano? Those were not the activities she would have guessed were the favorites of such a man.
She pursed her lips at the connection she hadn’t wished to find and changed the subject. “You are Robert’s brother.”
His brows lifted. “Yes.Robert. So informal with the great Duke of Roseford?”
Heat filled her cheeks at the observation and she dropped her gaze to the floor. “Well, I’ve known him almost all my life, so perhaps I am a little more familiar than I normally would be with a duke,” she explained softly. “He and my brother are very close.”
“Yes.” There was a flicker of something…dark in his stare. Something a little sad. Then he masked it and smiled. As if this were all a game. For the first time, she noticed he had a dimple beneath those whiskers. “Andyourbrother tells me I also work for you, my lady.”
Lizzie drew back in surprise at that bit of news. “Work for me?” she repeated. “N-no, you must have misunderstood.”
“Did I?” he asked, stepping a long stride closer. “You don’t have things you need?”
Her lips parted in surprise. He was being playful, teasing. Flirting with her. And part of her was drawn to that fact. Drawn to this handsome man’s charm. Just as she had been to another man. One who had lied so prettily and played her for the worst kind of fool.
She folded her arms and glared at Mr. Banfield, hoping he would see that she was not to be trifled with. “You forget yourself,” she whispered, wishing her voice didn’t tremble. “Good day.”
She pivoted away from him before he could respond and stalked from the room. But the moment she was out of his line of sight, she ran. Away from the library, away from the man so invading her space.
And away from the unwanted flutter this conversation had put in her belly. She would do well not to feel such a thing. There was no good that could come of it.
Morgan lay in the narrow bed in his small but serviceable chamber that night. It had been hours since his unexpected encounter with Lady Elizabeth. He should have been able to chalk that up entirely to being busy. After all, he’d had a household to meet and share a meal with. The servants had all been friendly—a little guarded, perhaps, but welcoming. Afterward, he’d busied unpacking and settling into his room. It was a huge estate—it was very likely one could go days without seeing the other inhabitants, and that wouldn’t be because anyone was avoiding anyone else.
Except he had the distinct impression Elizabethwasavoiding him after their encounter in the library. He’d spent the remainder of his afternoon and evening watching Brighthollow every time they were in the same room, waiting for the moment when he would be sacked. It was clear the duke was protective of his sister, and if she said the word, Morgan would be gone.
But it never happened, and so he had to assume Elizabeth hadn’t gone to her family and said the same words that she had left ringing in his ears in the library.
You forget yourself.
That was the story of his life, really. Forgetting himself. Suffering the consequences. Wallowing in them. Sometimes reveling in them.
But this time he couldn’t. If he wanted to keep this position—and for the moment he did—he was going to have to charm the duke’s sister by being polite when he encountered her, not chase her off by going too far. By being himself. Now he just had to figure out how, exactly, to be someone else.
Chapter 4
Lizzie sat on the window seat in her study, feet tucked up beneath her as she stared out at the garden below. The garden that was accusing her because she had not done a single thing to improve it, not even in the two days since Hugh and Mr. Banfield had returned to the estate.
