It was annoyingly hot, and, although her dress was a light muslin, she was perspiring in a most unladylike manner by the time their work was done.
Flinging herself into a chair, Honora fanned herself briskly, accepting an offer of lemonade gratefully from Mrs Hemsley.
As the dear woman hurried off to fetch the refreshing drink, Honora looked around with satisfaction.
Her books were piled at the ready next to the comfortable chaise, her sewing box neatly tucked away beneath it.
Arranged on the desk were her drawing supplies, a number of half-finished sketches of Althorpe Hall already scattered across the surface.
The room itself was lovely, although the furnishings were charmingly out of date, and she examined the rose silk wall coverings and matching upholstery with interest. It had clearly been decorated with a lady in mind. Honora wondered who it had been.
The previous countess, perhaps?
Whoever it was had made sure the room was bright and airy, perfect for leisure or receiving close acquaintances with comfort.
The door opened, and Honora looked around, expecting Mrs Hemsley with the drinks.
Her lemonade had arrived, indeed. But it was Silas himself that bore the tray.
“I notice you have made yourself at home,” he grunted, settling the tray on a table and pouring two glasses.
Handing her one, he settled himself on the chaise, examining the pile of books.
“You have brought the finest of your scandalous selection with you, I see,” he added, lips quirking with his signature dry smile as he held up a copy ofThe Monk,a provocative tale she had read twice already.
“Naturally. A lady must keep her mind entertained.”
Silas cleared his throat, flashing her a sideways look that made her insides shiver with delight. His eyes skimmed over her from head to toe, lingering on the way her damp bodice clung to her body.
With a small shake of his head, he cleared his throat. “I need to talk to you,” he said, setting down his glass and rising to stand by the window.
“I had hoped that I was wrong this morning, but unfortunately not. I rode back out and checked the grounds, and someone has been trespassing. There were clear tracks leading to the road at the north side of the estate.”
He turned, fixing her with that stern glare that seemed reserved purely for her.
“My staff are loyal. There is no doubt about that. I have placed men to patrol the perimeter of the grounds, day and night, but I need you to be careful. Please do not go anywhere without me or Jobs.”
Honora dug her fingers into the cushion at her side, inexplicably angry that the small moment of happiness she had found here was so easily shattered.
“Have you heard anything from Benedict?”
“No. Not as yet, but it has only been two days. We need to be patient.”
“Very well, as you wish,” murmured Honora.
Sixteen
Later that evening,long after the house had gone still, the servants retired to their quarters, Honora lay in bed, worrying over the situation she found herself in.
She had tossed and turned for hours, it seemed.
It was unreasonable, to say the least, that the blackmailer might have located her so quickly. But more than that, she found herself unbearably frustrated with Silas’s alternatively hot and cold manner.
Despite the passionate moment during their ride, he had not acknowledged the way things had changed between them at all.
It was as if that night at the coaching inn had been a figment of her imagination, even though her body’s response to his mere presence reassured her it was not.
Silas had said he didn’t want to pretend, but he seemed determined to do just that. Pretend he felt nothing, pretend he didn’t see the way she looked at him.
