“I will wait until we can be private,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up.
Her brain froze in panic for a second. This wasn’t happening.Lulu. Reese looked at the maid and mouthedhelp me, and she immediately stepped forward.
“Aunt Nellie has instructed me to be with Miss Clarisse atalltimes, my lord.”
The Earl arched a brow, his smile flattening. “And where were you last night when she was attacked?”
Lulu tried to speak but stumbled over her words.
Reese stepped beside her. “I waited until she was asleep, so I could be alone. It wasn’t her bad; it was mine.”
“Herbad?” he asked.
“It’s slang back home.” He wanted tocourther? Reese needed to get him thinking about something else. She pointed to the row of cottages and said a little too quickly, “As I mentioned before, there are many things still needing to be done here. I hope you will continue this work.”
“You speak as though you will not be here to see it through,” he said.
She wouldn’t be. If this were in her time, she would love to be a part of it, especially the skills training. The mindset in this time was so narrow in regards to these people and what they were capable of learning.
“Have you met the widow? I would love to introduce her to you.” Reese stepped toward the woman’s cottage. Gareth was beside her again, his elbow extended.
“Please, Miss Clarisse, introduce me to my cottiers.” He waited for Reese to take it, something implacable in his considering gaze. She took his arm, and he covered her hand with his, notquitelacing their fingers.
The motion reminded her of when Jem had done that. She glanced over her shoulder to where Jem had been but didn’t see him.
“You may follow us,” the Earl said to Lulu.
“Aye, my lord,” the maid said grimly. “Iwill.”
Several parties worked around the widow’s house and watched them as they approached. While Reese told Gareth more of the widow’s story, she tried to ignore the feel of his thumb running lightly over the top of her hand. It didn’t bother her like it should, and that realization unsettled her.
What was wrong with her that she should be attracted to two men she didn’t believe she would be with? She didn’t want to think of Jem.
As for the Earl, he still grieved his dead wife, and his lifestyle disgusted Reese. If there was any truth behind his reputation, he was probably riddled with STDs. Even if he did marry again, he’d pass them on to his wife and could render her infertile. Why had he shown that he had a heart that could be touched by a sick child, that he could learn to be a better man?
Reese was so messed up.
“Is this the cottage, Miss Clarisse?” Gareth asked, pulling her from her thoughts.
“Yes.” Reese gently pulled back her hand. She clasped them in front of her.
“Good morning, miss. My lord.” A girl of about twelve stood outside and curtsied. “You come to see what we’re learning? Widow Hill is proud of us.”
“Yes, that’s why we’re here.” Reese knocked on the doorjamb. When the wobbly voice bid her enter, she did.
A small group of women were sitting on log stumps around the old woman. As soon as they saw who had entered, all but the widow jumped to their feet and curtsied.
Gareth bowed and told them they should sit. Reese stayed by the door and watched as he asked for and received introductions to each woman. He listened to their histories, nodding his head. Reese wondered if it was all for show. She wished she had paper and a pen, so she could take notes.
“Please continue with your lesson, Widow Hill.” The Earl moved to the door and stood next to Reese.
The woman went into an explanation of design. Reese searched her memory but couldn’t recall how far back in her history the woman had shared. Not far enough, evidently. Widow Hill must have once been a dressmaker of some talent because she knew her stuff.
“I’m impressed,” Reese whispered to the Earl.
“I am as well.” He kept his voice low and glanced out the door. “Shall we step outside?”
Reese turned and strode out the door, careful to stay out of Gareth’s reach, should he decide to offer her his arm again.
