An Unexpected Encounter ( Half Moon House, Novella 1) (5 page)

Those intriguing eyes shimmered with
sympathetic tears. “No wonder she’s retreated into herself.”

“Yes. She doesn’t know whom to trust. I
admit, I was hoping it might be you.”

She straightened. “If I thought I was the
best choice for Aurelia, I would stay.” She cleared her throat. “I
hope you will forgive me for saying so, my lord, but all those
things you mentioned, the things she needs—trust, interest,
affection—those things must come from you.”

“From me?” he choked.

“From who else?” She cocked her head. “Why
should she not expect such things from you, my lord?”

“No one else ever has,” he muttered. “But we
were speaking of you, I believe, and your decision not to stay
on.”

She settled in to her seat a little farther.
“I enjoy Aurelia. I think I am a good companion for her, for now. I
do hope you’ll allow me to continue a friendship with her after
I’ve gone, but truly, she needs someone with more experience than I
have. She needs someone who can prepare her to take her place in
Society.”

“Come now, Miss Moreton.” He gestured, taking
in her comportment, her manners, her damned
appeal
in one
wave of his hand. “You seem eminently suited for such a thing.”

She laughed, and he detected a trace of
bitterness. “Thank you for the compliment, sir, but if there’s one
thing I’ve been given to understand, it’s that I am more useful
than ornamental. I can teach Aurelia practicality, but she’ll have
need of more feminine arts.” She sighed. “I’ve no doubt she will
grow into a lovely young lady, a boon to the
beau monde
,
given a graceful example. In the meantime, I have to find a
situation in which I can make use of my abilities.”

“Running a household, that sort of thing, you
said?”

She shrugged. “Yes, that sort of thing. I’m
good at seeing to people, keeping things working smoothly,
balancing the needs of a home, gardens, farms and stables, and all
the people involved.”

Being a wife
, he thought, with a surge
of completely irrational jealousy.
To some damned lucky
chap
. But he didn’t say it out loud. “You’d be wasted as a
common housekeeper,” he said instead.

“I fear there’s nothing else I’m so well
suited for,” she replied with the faintest touch of gloom.

“What? Come, you should at least aspire to be
a grand châtelaine.” He tried to lift her spirits.

“A châtelaine?” She frowned.

“You know, French for ‘mistress of the
castle’ or something like it?” She frowned again and he hurried on,
fearing she misinterpreted him. “The dragon who cares for the
castle, guards the keep and carries the great, clanking ring of
keys?”

“Oh!” She sat a little straighter. “Yes, I
understand now.” Her eyes unfocused. “It does sound better than a
plain housekeeper. I’m flattered that you think I could carry off
so weighty a position.” She blinked. “How does one find a position
as châtelaine?”

“One does not, if one is
you
, Miss
Moreton. It was merely a joke.” Not ornamental? Unless she’d
completely blotted her copybook she should be exactly that, an
ornament on a man’s arm of an evening, a blessing to his days and
the brightest star featured in his nights.

She was frowning again. “I don’t find it
funny. Why should I not aim as high as I can?”

She was aiming too low, he felt sure—which
was something else he could not say out loud. “You’ll forgive me
for pointing it out, but I can see many people questioning such
talents in one so young.”

“I can prove them, given the chance.”

All of which proved she truly was different
from all the other young ladies of his admittedly small
acquaintance. Somehow she seemed to think this made her less of a
woman. Edmund was of a mind that it made her more qualified to be a
man’s wife and helpmate. His body, operating on a slow hum, agreed.
Busily, it was churning up a flow of warmth and sending it on a
thick, rich crawl through the rest of him.

“How did it come about, your possession of
these skills? Would you mind sharing?”

For a moment he didn’t think she would
answer. Frankly he was somewhat surprised she’d conversed this long
with no show of fear or scorn. But then she drew a deep breath.

“I shouldered my mother’s responsibilities
long ago. Sometimes it feels I’ve learned something new and
valuable about such cares every day since I was in pinafores. Then,
two years ago, my father died. We had an agent to help, but again,
much of the work and many of the responsibilities fell to me.”

He watched her color rise but he doubted she
knew just how much she’d let slip with that simple statement. He
could almost feel the earnestness coming off of her in waves. “I
learned my skills the hard way, my lord, by rising at dawn and
working past dusk. I learned to be good at balancing the
responsibilities. I enjoyed it. I’d be doing it still, were it not
for—”

She stopped abruptly, frustrating him and
tempting him most unfairly when she pressed her full lips
together.

“I’m very sorry to hear of your loss.” And
more to hear of the burdens she’d been forced to carry. Her
mother’s duties, she’d said, which made her the daughter of a
gentleman. Country gentry, perhaps? “But you are young, pretty and
unmarried, it will be extremely difficult for most to take you
seriously.”

“I can manufacture a husband. Many other
housekeepers have done so.”

“And do you have a reference? A
recommendation? Without them, you are unlikely to get the chance to
prove yourself.”

That deflated her. “No.” She sat silent a
moment.

He waited.

Then she cast a hopeful glance in his
direction. “Unless you would provide me with one?”

“Would you have me lie?” He pretended affront
but his mind was working fast. She was more than an orphan cast out
onto the world, he felt sure. He wanted to know. He suffered an
urge to see her put back into her rightful sphere instead of
wasting away in some lord’s ancient keep.

“Of course not, but you could give me the
chance that you say no one else will. You’ve no housekeeper
here.”

“Yet we muddle on.”

“Your butler does well enough, but I can see
the signs, the lack of a woman’s touch.” She leaned forward. “Take
another chance on me, my lord. I swear I shall improve your
household and prove myself. I’ll make it a project so that Aurelia
can learn along with me. You will see the difference, I swear. And
when I’ve done the job well, you will give me a recommendation.
What do you think?”

He thought keeping her under his roof would
grow into a sweeter torment every day. But he also thought he would
need time to find a governess truly suitable for his ward. And
perhaps this girl needed time to think on her future and her place
in the world. “I think we can try. An experiment, as you say.”

“And will you give me free reign, full leave
to do just as I wish?”

Entirely inappropriate answers hovered on the
tip of his tongue, all involving the pleasures of offering her
carte blanche
. His blood surged even as his conscience
objected. “You may do as you wish—with the exception of my
laboratory. No one goes in there without my permission—and my
escort.”

“It’s a bargain, then. I’ll find Aurelia and
we can start right away.”

Chapter Four

Lisbeth checked her reflection as she tied
the ribbons of a plain straw hat beneath her chin. She’d borrowed
it from the upstairs maid, as her own was a bit too ornate for what
she had in mind for today.

She entered the schoolroom to fetch Aurelia,
only to find her charge running toward her, an actual smile on her
face.

“Look! Look what Lord Cotwell gave me!”
Aurelia ground to a halt in front of her and waved a large
butterfly net. “He says I may catch bugs with it, just as Papa used
to do.” Her smile faded. “Papa loved bugs.” Sudden dismay had her
turning on her heel toward the baron as he followed her into the
room. “I don’t have to stick them and pin them to boards, do
I?”

He laughed and Lisbeth swallowed. When would
the shock of it end—the quake that jostled her every time he drew
near? He loomed over her, solid and composed of so many sharp,
masculine angles. The laugh, though, it rumbled up and out of him
and kept him from feeling dangerous or overpowering. It was almost
too much at once, Aurelia’s smile and the baron’s laugh, because
they were both so fine and unexpected.

Almost.

“No, you don’t have to injure them at all.
Just close off the end of the net until you’ve had a good look,
then let them go.”

The girl sighed in relief. “Good. I never
watched while Papa stuck them.” She cocked her head at Lisbeth. “My
papa loved bugs as much as my mama loved animals. Which does your
mama love?”

Lisbeth struggled to regain her equilibrium.
Lord Cotwell’s
vigorous
presence must have rattled her
indeed, as she couldn’t quite grasp the meaning of the question.
“Which what, my dear?”

“Which does she love? Bugs or animals?” She
blinked expectantly.

Lisbeth could only laugh a little helplessly
at the image the question invoked. “Neither, I’m afraid. My mama
loves new gowns and hats, gossip, parties and the polite attentions
of a gentleman.”

Aurelia looked interested. “Do
you
like those things too? As I like animals and bugs?”

Lisbeth was a loss for an answer to that one,
but Lord Cotwell, in the polite way of a gentleman, stepped in to
save her. “I’d wager that Miss Moreton’s mama must also have run
her home in the finest manner. Surely her mama taught her, just as
she is now teaching you.”

“You’d lose money on that bet, I’m afraid,
sir.” Lisbeth pinched her lips together in a small smile. “My mama
despises the daily drudge of seeing to house, home and farm. That’s
why I got the job.”

He gave her a little nod. “Well, however you
came by your skills, they are very fine. I know you’ve only just
begun, but already I can see the difference. And even more
impressive, I think you’ve won the hearts of my servants while you
were at it—and they are a choosy lot.”

“Oh, just you wait, my lord. I’ve barely
scraped the surface. In fact,” she patted Aurelia on the shoulder,
“why do you not run and fetch your cloak? I’m ready for our
errand.” She smiled at the baron. “We are off to protect your
interests at the market.”

“It sounds a valuable lesson indeed.”

“You shall see effects of it in your coffers,
soon enough.”

He frowned. “You are not going to make a
spectacle, are you?”

She bit back a laugh. “Perhaps just a small
one.”

“But I wished to use my net,” Aurelia
objected.

“Bring it along. We’ll go on to Hyde Park
once we are done.”

Lord Cotwell objected. “Green Park will be
closer.”

Lisbeth could not hide her instant distaste.
“We’ll enjoy the walk to Hyde Park.”

“But between the reservoir and the livestock,
Green Park should have plenty of specimens for you to chase
down.”

Lisbeth raised her chin. “Nevertheless.” She
nodded a goodbye and gathering up a small basket and Aurelia’s
hand, set off.

The day was bright and the air clear. Her
blood surged a little in anticipation of the upcoming battle. When
they reached the edge of the local market, she stopped to brush
back Aurelia’s hair.

“There! You look your part perfectly. What
about me?” Lisbeth smoothed her skirts. “Do I look like a properly
frugal matron?”

“Yes.” Glancing about the bustling market,
Aurelia twirled her net and glowed with excitement, but a slight
frown crossed her brow before she reached out to touch Lisbeth’s
sleeve. “I have a question.”

“What is it, dear?” Lisbeth arranged the
cloth in her basket.

“Well, it’s just . . . Miss Preston told us
that it was vulgar to worry about money.”

Lisbeth paused. “Did she?” She thought a
moment. “Well, I feel sure she could have no objection about our
mission today. Truly, it’s Lord Cotwell I’m worried about.”

A flush started at Aurelia’s sudden, arrested
expression. “That is, Miss Preston is perfectly correct. When you
are grown, it will not be your daily obligation to worry over
marketing expenses. But you will be the lady of the house. You will
oversee the cook and housekeeper, their underlings and their
account books. When we looked over Lord Cotwell’s kitchen accounts,
it appeared clear that he is paying a shocking amount for supplies
bought at this locale. We will investigate—and you will learn, for
how can you properly supervise your servants if you do not
understand their duties?”

“Oh, yes. I see.” Aurelia looked relieved,
which was how Lisbeth felt, having successfully diverted her. She
didn’t want Aurelia—or anyone—to sniff out the extent of her
concern for the baron.

“Let’s go, shall we?”

With the notable exception of his laboratory,
Lisbeth had been into nearly every nook and cranny of Lord
Cotwell’s townhouse. She’d made the acquaintance of all of his
servants, from the scullery to his toplofty valet. And while she
was atop ladders, far back in the bowels of the attic and elbow
deep in the linen closets beside them, she’d listened to much of
what they had to say.

What they said, from highest to lowest, was
that the baron was a fair and generous employer, a good man—and a
lonely one.

The cook’s assistant had whispered over the
silver polish that his lordship had used to be a regular
gad-about-Town, keeping bachelor’s quarters, drinking, gaming and
wenching like any young man let loose from university, and
occasionally attending a rout or ball, like any young nobleman
expected to eventually do his duty.

The parlor maid and one of the footman
disagreed about what had happened to put an end to it all. The maid
postulated that the baron was above such wastrel behavior and went
home to his estate to straighten his ways. The footman insisted
that there had been some sort of contretemps amongst his close
group of friends—which included Aurelia’s father—and that his
lordship had gone home in a temper.