“A candle, or perhaps even a lantern for light.”
She might have imagined it, but she thought his lips twitched. “Scared of the dark, Miss St. Clair?”
She snorted. “No. I should merely like to see where I’m going if I need to…” She wracked her brain for an appropriate excuse. She grimaced inwardly but added a bit more quietly. “Use the necessary.”
“Consider it done,” he said. “And the next request?”
“Must my door be locked at night?”
“It’s for your own protection,” he returned smoothly. “Rosedale Heights is a large manor. It would be easy to lose your way.”
“Nevertheless.” She lifted her chin. “I don’t like feeling as if I’m a prisoner here.”
By this time, they had rounded a corner of the house and were nearly to the balcony outside her chamber. He crossed his arms and prompted. “And what else do you require, Miss St. Clair?”
She slowly released the breath she’d been holding. “A clock for the mantel, so that I might find the time.”
His eyes caught the sun and reflected such a light blue that they appeared silver. “So that you might know the hour when you spy on others out of doors?”
She gasped, her head swimming with unease. “I…” She swallowed and tried again. “I’m not in the habit of spying on anyone. I couldn’t sleep, and I thought that the fresh air might accommodate my restlessness in a new environment.”
He smiled slowly and something shifted in his face, but she couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. It was as if the shadows that had been lingering about her room the night before were evident in his expression. But that was absurd. Wasn’t it? “And the next?”
It took her a moment to realize that he was speaking of her request—and not something more nefarious. “Coal. For the fire. I realize it is summer and generally warmer, but I have a particular aversion to the cold.”
He stepped toward her, so close that she could feel his warm breath on her cheek. “I might be inclined to keep you warm, Miss St. Clair.”
Marlene’s eyes were suddenly heavy, as if he was casting some sort of spell over her. But then it was lifted.
She moved away from him and hugged herself, feeling oddly unsettled. “I’m afraid that’s not an offer that I can contemplate, Sir Gothry. If no more coal can be provided for the grate, then I will just be forced to ration the supply I currently have.” She forced herself to bob a curtsy, and then she turned on her heel and headed back to Lady Erica. She told herself to keep her footfalls even, but the urge to run from the master of the manor was making it difficult to remain steady.
Alaric stood in the window of his study and stared out at the lawn, but more specifically, at the woman who was sitting with his aunt. Miss St. Clair had her back to him, but that didn’t erase her loveliness from his mind in the least. He could easily picture her dark hair beneath the hat she wore, and he yearned to drown in those fathomless dark eyes.
When he had hired her as his aunt’s companion, he hadn’t considered that she would be quite so young—or beautiful. It was definitely a complication that he hadn’t foreseen. From the first moment she’d walked into his study and he’d glanced up at her, he had been captivated. It would be best if she were to make an unforgiveable misstep so he could have the excuse of sending her on her merry way and find someone else to fill her role in the manor—one who wasn’t quite so tempting.
It would certainly be best for everyone involved.
Unfortunately, he knew that time was not on his side.
Especially with Hector Corinth back in England.
Alaric ground his jaw as he pictured his nemesis. Or at least, the last version of Hector that he had beheld. The man was known to wear many guises during his tenure on this earth, and if Alaric wasn’t cautious, he could be easily deceived. At least he hadn’t been able to turn into a woman just yet. Not that he could tell, at least. Either way, Alaric had to be alert and dared not trust anyone.
He’d been reluctant to hire a companion for his aunt, but he could tell that she was starting to get lonely in her older years. Since the death of her husband some years ago, they had all managed to live quite amicably in this drafty old estate, but recently, he’d noticed that she’d become more withdrawn, as if she didn’t care if she lived or died, and that he could not bear to witness. Thus, the reason for the reluctant advertisement he’d placed in the London papers. With a city so overrun, there was bound to be someone who would be willing to make the arduous journey to Rosedale Abbey.
He just hadn’t expected it to be her.
It made him curious as to Miss St. Clair’s past, why she might feel the need to leave every chance at a society opportunity behind. Of course, there was the possibility that she had been sent here as a spy to report to Hector. However, that seemed like a rather farfetched idea, even for his conspiratorial mind. Hector was the sort who liked to cause his own havoc rather than having someone else do it for him.
And yet…
She had found a way to read the coded message hidden within the newsprint.
That alone made her infinitely appealing to him. Either she was a willing pawn in this game, or she truly didn’t know the gift she possessed. If that were the case, Miss St. Clair must have fallen on difficult times, indeed. He found it unlikely that there wasn’t any family upon whom she could rely. If she truly was that destitute, he felt sorry for her. To waste such a remarkable life was a travesty.
He gritted his teeth and reminded himself that her tale of woe wasn’t his concern, unless it directly affected the safety of his household. He had enough to contend with by keeping up his ledgers and ensuring that his tenants were provided for properly. He would never see anyone have to struggle the way he had all those years ago, before he’d made his fortune and earned a knighthood. Some would say that God had smiled upon him for his daring pursuits upon the sea as a privateer, but it had merely been a way to ease his troubled spirit without drawing undue attention to himself. It had also been a way to ensure that, should he require extra services when needed, he would have a way to secure loyalty and cooperation with a few extra guineas.
Miss St. Clair turned her head and smiled at his aunt and a zing of awareness struck him in the center of his chest. It was what finally made him turn away and return to his duties for the day.
