“Miss Hawthorne?”
Tess jumped at the sound of the countess’s voice. She was usually busy making social calls during the hours when Tess came to work on the library.
Pasting on a smile, she turned to face her employer.
“Yes, your ladyship?”
The countess seemed to take in everything in one sweeping assessment—the gaps on the shelves, the pile of books on the table, and then Tess.
“You look overwrought, Miss Hawthorne.”
“Not at all.”
She narrowed one dark eye at Tess. “I take it you met Dominic Prince.”
“Yes.” Tess stifled the urge to say more.
“Newby says he heard raised voices and that Mr. Prince left abruptly.”
“I...” Tess fumbled to explain what had taken place with the tall dark man whose scent still lingered in the air.
Lady Goddard didn’t wait for Tess to say more. “I was expecting Miss Eveline Prince, you see, but I was most pleasedwhen Newby informed me that Mr. Prince had appeared instead.”
Something flashed in the countess’s expression when she mentioned him that Tess thought looked a great deal like giddiness.
“But now I find that he’s already departed.” Her lower lip jutted out a bit, like a child who’d just had their favorite toy plucked from their hand. “Why ever did you send him scurrying off so quickly?”
“I didn’t.”
Lady Goddard narrowed her gaze on Tess further, studying her.
Tess prayed her blush had faded, that her eyes gave nothing away, that none of the whirlwind of feelings Dominic Prince had evoked were apparent under the noblewoman’s keen inspection.
Lady Goddard stepped closer. If she had a quizzing glass, Tess didn’t doubt she’d be using it to assess her. “What exactly occurred between you and Mr. Prince?”
Tess cleared her throat, struggling to construct the simplest explanation with the fewest words. She didn’t need another scandal in her life. She wasn’t that reckless girl anymore. Yet when she recalled the way he looked at her, the heat that had zinged through her at his words, the way her body responded to his nearness...
“Out with it, Miss Hawthorne, or I shall assume the very worst.”
How could she tell the woman the truth? The man looked at me like he was starving, and I was a jam tart.
“He was sorting through the very books I spent the last week organizing.”
Lady Goddard nodded. “Yes, that is precisely what I asked his sister to do, and for some reason, he came in her stead.”
“I did not know that, my lady, so I was surprised to find him here.” Tess heard a tinge of annoyance in her tone and regretted it.
The countess was already peeved at the man’s departure.
“I may employ whoever I please, Miss Hawthorne, and do with all of this”—she flicked a hand at the cluttered library—“as I see fit.”
“Of course.”
She harrumphed and crossed her arms. “I want him back.”
Tess pressed her lips together and cast her gaze at the carpet. What on earth could she say to that? Especially considering that the exact same sentiment had filtered through her mind the moment he’d left the library.
“I think we shall put an end to your organizing, Miss Hawthorne. Please do not return tomorrow or thereafter.”
