“As a nursery maid to a passel of prosy ambassadors?” Morgan gestured across the path. “Better than this? I never thought you a fool.”
I felt like one the day I left here. I never meant to come back.
But every day he lingered, Ashmead wrapped itself more securely around him, and with each of those passing days, the old lies didn’t seem to hurt as once they had. If he didn’t act soon, this world would tie him in an unbreakable hold.Am I clinging to those painful memories and my resentment of Da to keep from being choked by this place?
Morgan paused at the bend that led to the house. “It comes complete with a tidy manor house as well. You are a fool, Benson.”
“I have prize money,” Rob said as much to himself as to Morgan. “That and the proceeds will let me buy a bigger estate somewhere else.” He nudged Khalija forward. “Let’s warn the caretaker and take a look at that ridge.”
He didn’t get far. Something caught his eye a short distance along that brought him a ferocious frown. “Damned fool woman!” he spat, speeding up. A ladder had been set up against the front of the house and a pair of shapely legs, tangled in a skirt, dangled over the edge of the roof.
He leapt from the horse, ran to the ladder, and shouted. “What the hell do you think you are doing?”
Lucy Whitaker turned to peer down at him. “I’m inspecting your roof!” She felt for the ladder with one foot while the other swung wildly sideways, giving him a tantalizing view of petticoats, white stockings, and a slim ankle that distracted him so much that he almost missed her failure to actually connect with the ladder that began to slip sideways. When she groped for purchase on the drainpipe, he opened his mouth to warn her. Too late. The tile gave way in her hand and crashed to the pavement.
Rob’s blood ran cold as Lucy tumbled after it.
*
Death loomed, butLucy had no time to ponder it. Her foot missed its step, the ladder fell away, and the ground rushed toward her. Before she could form a coherent thought, she came to an abrupt stop against a warm chest, and two arms clamped around her in a grip that drove the air from her lungs.
A blanket of security enfolded her momentarily, while strong arms and a warm body radiated more safety than she remembered since her mother died. The urge to snuggle close overwhelmed her.
“You daft woman! You could have been killed.” Sir Robert Benson’s deep voice reverberated through her chest and jolted her back to reality.
“Put me down you, you—” She pushed at his shoulders with both hands, but his arms only pulled her closer.
“Hold still. You’re a heftier armful than you appear,” he growled, clambering up the steps and forcing her to cling to his broad shoulders. He pushed the door, and it gave, causing Agnes, who had been in the process of opening it, to fall back.
“Where is the family parlor?” he demanded, looking back and forth. He didn’t wait for a reply, striding directly into the formal drawing room to his right.
He laid Lucy on the settee against the far wall with excruciating gentleness that caused warmth to pool deep in her belly in response. When his hands slid into her hair and tenderly probed for injury, she shuddered. Concern in his warm green eyes, searching hers, deepened. Lucy couldn’t look away, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t tell him she was perfectly capable of inspecting the roof.
The roof!The reminder struck her like a splash of icy water. Lucy batted his hands away and sat up. “I’m perfectly fine, you buffoon. Kindly remove your hands from my person!”
“The lady fell so gracefully into your arms, Benson, that she is quite unharmed. Well done!” A stranger with an amused glint in his eyes leaned against the door jamb, grinning at Sir Robert.
Lucy glared at the stranger, painfully aware her burning cheeks signaled a red face. Sir Robert’s hovering nearness didn’t help. She stood, forcing him to step back. She kept her gaze fixed on the stranger.
“I don’t believe we’ve met, sir,” she said.
The stranger looked expectantly at Sir Robert, one brow arched in question.
Her tormenter ran a hand through his thick mass of auburn hair. “Miss Lucy Whitaker, may I present Colonel Brynn Morgan—” He wheeled toward her. “—and what were you thinking climbing on the roof with nothing but a rickety ladder between you and the ground?”
Lucy’s mortification grew, augmented by the stranger’s amusement and Agnes’s smug nod. The older woman had warned her not to do it. Lucy raised her chin and said the first thing that came into her head. “The ladder is not rickety!”
“It certainly didn’t protect you,” Sir Robert spat back. “Don’t I have servants or at least tenants to see to my roof?”
The words felt like a slap. His tenants. His roof. His house.Not mine.Lucy took a breath. “We are planting. I thoughtyourpeople best deployed in the fields. Of course, if you order otherwise…”
“I do.” He snatched his hat from the settee where he had dropped it and slapped it against his thigh. “If we need all hands in the fields and the roof needs repairs, I’ll hire carpenters in Ashmead.”
“It doesn’t. At least, it didn’t until I broke the drainpipe.” She added the last sheepishly.You are six kinds of fool, Lucy Whitaker. And take your eyes off the man’s hands.
“Then why did you climb up there. You assured me the roof didn’t leak the last time I was here.”
“I thought I saw a loose tile and Spangler—”
