Carrowell scoffed. “Suspicious, suspicious. How I love a mystery.”
“Is there anything else?” Alistair straightened and folded his hands on the desk. Carrowell was the type who would not drop a topic unless he was forced to do so, and the last thing that Alistair needed was him prying and poking his nose into business that had nothing to do with him.
“Gosh, you are touchy. If I did not know any better, I would swear that you want me to leave.”
“Need I say it more directly?”
Carrowell smirked. “Fine, I’ll leave. Right after you answer one more question.” Alistair looked flatly at his friend. “Who was that gorgeous creature I saw you sparring with in the garden just now?”
Alistair’s face dropped. “Nobody.”
“It did not look like nobody.”
Alistair’s stomach began to flutter. “She is nobody – my son’s governess, hired recently.”
“Why does she look so familiar?”
“She is the Vicar’s daughter…” Alistair shifted as his pulse began to quicken. “That is why. No doubt you have seen her before.”
“Perhaps…” Carrowell continued to eye his friend in a way that was knowing, as if he could see what was on Alistair’s mind. “It certainly looked as if you knew her. A little too well, if you catch my drift.”
Alistair’s heart raced, and he refused to consider why.
Again, his mind retreated to his earlier interaction with Miss Norleigh, what had started as a tense exchange and ended in a way that left him confused and not sure why he felt as much.
He should have thought little of Miss Norleigh. He hired her because the Vicar had told him how close she was to Hugh, and that was enough for Alistair to decide on her role in his home, figuring it would make the transition for Hugh easier to bear.
But she was not the quiet, obedient woman he expected her to be. She was argumentative. She was headstrong. And that said nothing about her beauty…
“She… we were merely discussing my son’s education.” Alistair cleared his throat. “Outside of that, I have little to do with her.”
There could be no doubt that Carrowell saw through Alistair’s lies. And the smirk he wore on his lips, not to mention the glimmer in his eyes, was proof of this.
“You best be careful. We don’t want Lady Emily getting jealous.”
Alistair’s laughter was forced and awkward. “Don’t be absurd.”
“Perhaps I should be the one who is jealous,” he continued with glee. “Ordinarily, it is my job to bring you to such obvious discomfort. I ought to speak to this governess and ask her what her secret is.”
Alistair exhaled deeply and forced calm upon himself. Then he looked at his friend, making sure to hold his gaze, while adding a hint of warning to both his stare and the growl in his voice. “I have work to do, Carrowell. So, if there is nothing else you need…”
“So be it,” Carrowell exhaled. “I can take a hint.” He pushed back his chair and stood. “Just remember, you have friends here, Pembourne. You are not alone in this, even if you are insistent on acting like you are. If you need anything at all…”
“You are the last person I would think to ask.”
Carrowell laughed as if it were a joke, but Alistair did not mean for it to be. His situation with Hugh was precarious, his feelings surrounding Miss Norleigh were just as much, and as was alwayshis way, Alistair would go it alone because he had never been much for relying on others.
Perhaps that was the reason he constantly felt so alone? One of the many reasons, to be fair…
CHAPTER SEVEN
Yvette found herself standing outside the Duke’s office. The door was closed, but she knew the Duke to be sitting on the other side, waiting for her. Just as she knew that the conversation they were sure to have would not be a pleasant one.
Do not let him push you around, Yvette. Do not let him make you feel small. He is the one who forced you to be here, and if he does not like how I do things, then he can find somebody else!
The words sounded brave in her head, but the thought of saying them terrified Yvette to her core. All day, she had thought back to their previous interaction, and every time that she did, her heart beat so loudly that she could hear it.
Some of it was fear, which was understandable. Lucinda, the cook, might have claimed that the Duke was a kind man, but Yvette had yet to see the proof. As far as she knew, he was mean and cold and a brute of the worst kind. If there was a softer side, he did well to hide it.
