What on earth makes you think you can provide for this glorious woman?
He walked on around to the stables, handed the pony to the grooms, dispatched someone to take care of the cart, followed the path through the trees, and dragged himself through the kitchen as was his custom.
“Mr. Benson! We weren’t expecting you for a few more days,” the cook exclaimed. He waved off greetings politely and made his way down the long corridor to the estate office. His domain. His tiny apartment, a mere room, lay above it. Meager enough to show for his life.
He opened the door and stared around him. Little light shown in that afternoon, but even in the dimness, it felt familiar. He had always gloried in this world, but now it felt merely comfortable. Comfortable but not enough. He shook his head, walked to the desk, and set down his valise. He froze.
Curled up in his chair, a shawl around her shoulders, dainty toes peeking out from her hem, Fanny slept. His unruly heart raced, and his idiot male organs rose in celebration.
What is that she has in her arms?He peered at it closely. She cradled a ledger book to her beautiful breasts.My ledger?He dared hope she meant to embrace its owner.
He indulged the urge to simply look at her, letting his gaze graze her toes, follow the line of her legs where they curled beneath her, hug her hip, and wander along her arm to that ledger—his ledger—lying where he longed to—
“Benson!”
At the earl’s voice, Eli spun around, pulling his valise to his front to avoid embarrassment. “My lord.” He inclined his head.
“We didn’t expect you for another few days,” Clarion said. “I gather you not only completed our business but captured the malefactors behind Miss Hancock’s misfortunes.”
“Eli?” Fanny’s voice, thick with sleep, preceded the sound of a ledger being dropped on his desk.
“Fanny, what are you doing in Benson’s chair?” The earl sounded puzzled. Eli had been, too, but his delight had outweighed it.
“I… I came in to write a note and fell asleep.” Fanny’s sheepish expression gave Eli’s aching heart a nudge.
The earl beamed at her. “No need. Our Benson has returned early.”
“I took the mail.” As an explanation, Eli’s words lacked substance.
“We’ll want to hear everything. Come along to the family parlor. It is better lit this time of day.” The earl leaned to John the footman hovering behind him and ordered tea sent up. Clarion set off, confident they would follow.
Fanny came around the desk. Eli dropped his valise, and a hand come up instinctively to pull her into his arms. Sense stopped him, and he got as far as her cheek, his trembling fingers touching it tenderly.
“You dropped your valise,” she said, her eyes boring into his.
“You’re safe,” he murmured.
She blinked. “We heard. Come. Clarion expects you to tell us all.” She took his hand and tugged him toward the door.
“Fanny?” Eli hardly recognized his own voice.
“Yes?”
“We need to talk.”
She tilted her head up and smiled. “Yes,” she said.
