“You may.” He felt inordinately pleased. Any crumb. What a sad fellow he’d become. He spurred the horses along. What happened to the man accused of rakish behavior in London? He almost preferred him to the man he now was.
“You are scowling,” she observed. “Has something upset you?”
“A man can have many sides to him.”
“Indeed. I admire kindness in a man.”
Before long he’d be holding her skeins of wool while she rolled them up, he thought darkly, aware of how unreasonable he was. Fighting an almost overwhelming urge to stop the horses and pull her into his arms, he fell silent as the curricle took them home.
*
Williams waited forRedcliffe in the entry. “There’s been word of a fire in the barn at Willard Johnson’s farm, milord.”
“I must go at once.” He turned to Olivia. “Leave the library until tomorrow, Miss Jenner.”
“As you wish, my lord.”
Olivia was relieved. She was getting behind in her work and feared she became forgetful. Discussing the menus and provisions with Sam this morning, he had to prompt her twice. And when she apologized, the wily man gave her a second glance. He must suspect something but made no comment. Sam never would. Live and let live was his motto. He’d told her more about himself over a cup of tea. She understood. Events beyond their control had blighted their lives. It made them unusual friends.
Seated in her office, Polly came to ask her a question, and she put thoughts of the heartwarming experience with Sam aside.
She did not see Redcliffe again that day. She visited Mary, who was brighter and in good spirits, holding the dear baby in her arms.
“Did you hear about the master’s goat?” Jack had asked while driving her back to Redcliffe Hall. “He brought it here to keep his stallion company because he thought Onyx was lonely.”
Another thing to admire about Redcliffe. He was kind to animals. Heaven help her. Was there anything to dislike about him to enable her to arm herself against him?
Her night was restless, filled with yearning to experience the love the Graveses had for each other and their baby. Redcliffe appeared in her dreams. It was hazy, but she was sure he’d kissed her. Pushing the startling dream away, she bathed and dressed while applying her mind to the tasks which awaited her.
Redcliffe was gone before breakfast. She learned from Williams that he rode over to Johnson’s farm to organize the building of a new barn to replace the one razed by fire. He was still absent when Jack drove Olivia to the Graves’ farm with the provisions. They returned immediately, leaving the tired but happy family to their rest.
The earl was in for luncheon, Emily informed her, having taken him a tray in the library. And at three o’clock, Olivia, before brushing down her skirts and tidying her hair, knocked on the library door.
“Enter.”
At his desk, Redcliffe’s cravat lay undone, baring the strong column of his throat. She swallowed, her gaze caught by the tuft of dark hair in the vee formed by his shirt. He rose and came around to lean against the desk, folding his arms across his chest while he studied her.
She wished her heart would cease thumping. Her chest rose and fell, drawing his attention there. “I trust you’re well?”
“Perfectly well, thank you,” she said crisply, annoyed. He missed little. Was there no way to escape his penetrating gaze? “Did Mr. Johnson lose much stock in the fire?”
“Yes, all the hay stock and the beets. We will replace the stock losses when the barn’s finished. The carpenter and every spare man lent a hand, and the frame is already up.”
“I know the Johnsons from church. Such nice people.”
“Most people here are.”
“Is it your intention to search the library today? Because if not, I will….”
“It is.” He straightened and crossed to a wall lined with bookcases. “Shall we begin?”
Olivia glanced up at the row of bronze busts high above them set in an alcove crowned by the coat of arms. “Very well.”
She joined him, and they moved along the shelves of gold and red spined tomes, prodding each section. Over an hour had passed when they finished. No book or shelf gave an inch. Redcliffe sighed and stepped away. “Disappointing. I was confident we’d find a secret door here somewhere.”
She walked over to the fireplace. “I seem to remember reading something about a hidden panel in a book.”
He came over to her, watching as she investigated around the sides of the marble mantel. “One of your gothic novels, Miss Jenner?” he asked, amused.
