She shuddered at the memory, but she realized that she hadn’t thought of anything more than saving the horse and her anger toward the stranger when she’d acted just now. Well, perhaps a bit more than anger toward the stranger, but she wasn’t about to address the way her pulse had thumped when she’d opened the door and found him dripping wet on the front stoop. Although he hadn’t been the first man who’d tried to cross the threshold that evening, thanks to Maggie’s blasted article, she prayed that he was the last. She’d sent the other scoundrels packing with a flea in their ear, so hopefully, the message would be firmly received—and delivered to any of their fellow cronies—by the time they returned to London. She was exhausted from sending so many gentlemen away. The carriages had kept lining the drive.
But now that she thought on it, this was the first man who had appeared on horseback. And although she considered him the most intriguing with his slightly long, brown hair that brushed his shoulders, and eyes that were the same, it was the quirk to his mouth that she found so nice. However, she was not looking for a temporary liaison, nor was he the proper age. He seemed much too young for her.
Shaking her head, Ada went upstairs to change. She searched through her wardrobe, and finally settled on a simple violet gown. It had been one of her half-mourning dresses, but she wanted to ensure that she portrayed the correct impression of the Manor.
Making sure that her hair was still pulled back into a neat bun, she descended the stairs and headed for the kitchens on the lower level.
She was halfway down the stairs when she heard deep baritone laughter. She reached out and splayed her hand against the wall, curious as to why something so innocent might affect her this way. She had certainly never behaved in such a manner before. Not even with Archie. What they had shared was an abiding affection for one another, while this feeling in the pit of her stomach was something else entirely. It was something… wicked.
Ada clenched her jaw. Dear Heavens, she was beginning to sound like Maggie now. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about her for much longer. Her former friend was in her room sulking and once Mrs. Grant received her urgent missive and could find a way to return from London after the storm passed, Ada intended to suggest that Maggie be sent packing for causing such havoc.
That was all that was wrong with her, Ada mused. She was still rattled from dealing with so many gentlemen callers expecting to have a good time, and combined with the thunderstorm, she was still in a state of distress.
As if to continue her torment, thunder rumbled, shaking the very rafters of the manor, and Ada closed her eyes. She counted backward from ten, a habit that she had used for some time to compose her nerves, then continued on into the kitchens.
“Ah! There you are, Mrs. Givens.” Cook said brightly. She wore her usual smile, but if Ada wasn’t mistaken, there was a particular blush on her apple cheeks that wasn’t usually there.
When her gaze shifted to the stranger, she realized he was the cause. He looked even more handsome now that his hat and greatcoat had been discarded. He was standing next to the kitchen counter where Cook was preparing some sort of delicious treat, and wore the same devil-may-care expression he’d shown her earlier.
It was enough to snap her back to the present. “I assume your horse was properly seen to by the grooms?” she inquired.
“Yes. They were very accommodating.” His eyes warmed, as if wondering if she might be the same, but she promptly turned her attention to the cook.
“Once the storm has passed, the gentleman will be taking his leave. But he should have some tea and perhaps a few biscuits while he waits. We wouldn’t want to be accused of not being hospitable to any guest.” She flicked her gaze back to him. “However brief his stay may be.”
His smile grew, as if he understood what she was trying to do with her not-so-subtle hint. “I appreciate your generosity, Mrs. Givens, was it?”
“Yes.” She clasped her hands together. At this point, she felt like a strict governess with her charge. “I’m the current matron in charge of running the Manor. We are a safe haven for widows, a place where we can share our loss and grief and make lasting friendships. The reason for my upset this evening had nothing to do with you, and I apologize for my behavior, but after a particular article was run in the paper, we were beset by gentlemen this evening believing this to be a house of ill repute.”
“Ah.” He didn’t appear surprised. “The gentlemen of the ton aren’t known for their common sense. They are out to enjoy themselves with little else to recommend them.”
As they conversed, Ada noted that Cook and her assistant had gone about their work, but she had no doubt the cunning lady was still listening intently to their exchange. “You don’t speak very highly of your sex, sir.”
He shrugged. “I would be lying if I said it wasn’t the truth. Once upon a time I was just like them, but after I went to Egypt, my eyes were opened to a very different culture.”
Ada perked up. “You’ve been to Egypt? I’ve always been fond of the pyramids. Are they as grand as the pictures portray them?”
He nodded, his expression holding a touch of nostalgia. “They are magnificent. Like nothing I’ve seen before. If you get the chance to travel there, I highly recommend it.”
Ada didn’t think such an extravagance was something that her future held, but it was nice to dream. She replied, “I shall definitely consider it.”
Chapter 3
Brandt couldn’t stop looking at her. Mrs. Givens. A widow.
Was God testing him by throwing him in the path of such a lovely creature without giving him the opportunity to enjoy her company longer than a single night?
Unfortunately, that seemed to be the case, because she didn’t seem eager to embark on anything more than this conversation, and even then, he could sense the hesitancy in her tone. She didn’t trust him, or perhaps it was men in general. Some women were content to live their lives in solitude because they lost their freedoms if they wed. They became slaves to their husbands. He wasn’t so naïve that he didn’t know the ways of the world. Someday, he knew it had to change, but for now, that’s how it was. He couldn’t change it, and frankly, he wasn’t even looking for a wife. But if he were in the market, he could see himself waking up to those enchanting green eyes and that glorious, black hair spread across his pillow for the remainder of his days.
“How old are you?” He hadn’t meant to be so blunt, but the question sort of slipped out.
He saw her stiffen. “Does it matter?”
Brandt decided to play off his faux pas with a nonchalant shrug. “I was inquiring because if you truly wish to see the pyramids, there is plenty of time to marry again and—”
“That is out of the question,” she said firmly.
Brandt’s fist clenched. He wanted to injure the man who had made her so set against remarrying. Someone so lovely shouldn’t be alone forever. She deserved someone who would cherish her and love her long into the night.
