“You’re quite certain I can’t assist you, Lord Fairmont?”
God above, but the man was persistent. “Yes, yes, I’m perfectly sure, Watkins, but perhaps I’ll just go and wait in the library.”
“Very good, my lord.”
He marched to the end of the corridor and went into the library, but he didn’t take a seat. Instead, he waited by the door, on alert for the sound of footsteps. Miss Templeton was fond of reading, and would come this way sooner or later.
Not that he was skulking. It was nothing so devious as that. He was just… lurking around the corner, waiting for her to appear.
What in the world was keeping her?
The timing was perfect. Now, if the lady would only see fit to venture from her bedchamber, he could get on with his?—
“Good morning, Watkins.”
He stilled, listening.
“Good morning, Miss Templeton.”
Ah, at last!
He waited, ears perked for the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway, but he didn’t hear a thing. Had she gone the other way, toward the breakfast room?
He was just about to risk a quick peek around the edge of the library door when he heard the soft rustle of a lady’s skirts, then the faint shuffle of footsteps against the thickly carpeted hallway.
Closer, then closer still, another few steps, and…
He ducked back behind the door. An instant later she slipped into the library, and made her way to a chair on one side of the glass doors that led to the terrace, throwing herself into it with the abandon of a lady who believed herself to be alone.
“Now, where did I put…” She rummaged through the cushions and pulled a small book out of its hiding place. “Ah, ha. There you are.”
She flipped the pages until she’d found her place, then wriggled about in the chair, leaning her head against one armand throwing her legs over the other, her somber gray skirts trailing on the floor.
So, she was back to the drab, dull colors, was she? No more silk and velvet for Miss Templeton, it seemed, and no more midnight blue ribbons. After last night, she was back to attempting to hide in plain sight.
He couldn’t blame her, really, but it was a wasted effort. She was good at making herself invisible, yes, but once a man did take notice of her, there wasn’t a gown gray enough to hide her.
Now he’d seen her, he couldn’tunseeher.
There was something about her features that drew a man’s attention. At least, they drew his attention. Not thatthatmeant anything. It didn’t. It meant less than nothing, yet somehow, he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away from her.
She was utterly absorbed in her book, her face alight, her lower lip caught between her teeth, and her legs swinging, the heels of her shoes hitting the side of the chair with a rhythmic thump. The morning sun streamed through the doors behind her, picking out the golden threads in her dark hair.
How had he ever let her fool him into thinking she was only passably pretty? She was a fascinating study in contrasts, with those sweet, soft pink lips hiding that barbed tongue and those mild blue eyes that sparked fire when her temper was roused. Looking at her now, it seemed incredible he could have ever thought her ordinary.
There was nothing ordinary about Euphemia Templeton.
He could have stayed there all afternoon watching her, but they didn’t have much time. His aunt and Harriett would wake in a few hours. Until then, he and Miss Templeton had some business to attend to.
Privatebusiness.
He slipped out from behind the door, but she was so captivated by her book she didn’t look up. He drew closer, butthe thick carpeting muffled the sound of his boots, and still, she didn’t notice him.
My, that must be a fascinating book, indeed. “What are you reading, Miss Templeton?”
“Oh!” She jerked upright at the sound of his voice. The book slipped from her hands, and fell to the floor with a thump. “Lord Fairmont! Dear God, where did you come from? Were you…” She glanced at the door, then back at him, her mouth falling open. “Were youhidingbehind the door?”
“I wouldn’t say hiding, no. I do beg your pardon. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
