He chuckled and took his cup, glancing around for a place to sit.
“We’ve been relegated to this little settee, I’m afraid.” She gathered her skirts to make room. “The other furniture may harbor vermin. Or so I’m told.”
“One can never be too careful.”
“There’s hardly room for the two of us, a mouse would be out of the question.”
Captain Bannock smiled at her joke but turned away, sipping tea.
“Or perhaps there is not room,” she quietly observed.
“Miss Allard,” he said.
“Captain,” she replied.
He set down his cup. He sniffed at the cream in the small pitcher and blinked. He removed the lid from the sugar dish and frowned. He did not sit.
“What do you make of the library?” she asked.
“Extensive. Well organized. The interests of the previous owners seemed to center on astronomy, Roman roads, and cricket. Among other topics.” He drained his cup. “The collection of periodicals that Abbott has painstakingly archived is remarkable. The London papers. Science journals. Gossip rags. Abbott can clearly read and catalog; he’s kept up with five subscriptions that arrive weekly, monthly, quarterly—everything in careful order.”
“Well done, Abbott,” she said. “And he’s prepared this tea.”
Captain Bannock regarded her. She should be accustomed to his scrutiny; she’d felt his eyes on her all day. But he’d not looked her square in the face, not really. Dani looked back, blinking slowly. Her stomach did the flipping thing, and she felt a flush rise on her cheeks.
“We should talk, Captain.” She forced the words out.
“Have we been silent all day and I dreamed the hours of chatter?”
“Not about the house,” she said. “Please.”
She scooted to the edge of the tiny settee. He was given no choice but to sit, wedging his large frame between her and the opposite arm. The spindly wood creaked under his weight. He took away her empty teacup and draped his arm behind her.
“And what are we to talk about?” he asked.
Dani took a deep breath, trying to think around the buzzy, pinging sensation of his closeness.
“My parents will not discuss the letter that announced this betrothal. Either they do not understand it or they feel threatened by it. But I understand most things, and I cannot see the threat. What I do see is a lack of vital information. How, pray, did this house, and you—how did all of it—come about?”
The captain nodded but did not speak.
Dani continued. “Please do not think me ungrateful. I am thrilled by the prospect of Eastwell Park, obviously. Also, I’m not opposed to—to you.” Here she cleared her throat. “But it would be imprudent for me to tour another room or indulge in your, er, attention without gaining some understanding about how all of this has fallen in my lap.”
“Right,” he said, exhaling. He took off his hat and balanced it on a piece of draped furniture. He ran a hand through his hair.
“So, this house was given to me as a reward,” he began. “You know this much.”
“Yes.”
“And the reason I was given this house, and these lands, is because the Prince Regent hoped to, in a way, redirect my professional focus.”
This had not been her question, but it was new information. “Your professional focus?”
“Yes. Fromseatoland.”
“From sea to land?”
“That’s correct. That is, the reward was partly property and partly... a chance for a fresh start in life.”
