Silver Sea (7 page)

He glanced back at her, one dark brow arching slightly. "I had business in town. Perhaps you might consider the possibility that protecting you involves more than standing in your shadow."

"I see." How dare he be secretive? After all, in one way, he was working for
her,
wasn't he? Whirling, Adrienne walked down the corridor and entered the library, wishing she could lock Nathan out. It was especially galling that he could come and go as he pleased in view of her punishing descent into the serving class.

"Tell me how I can help you."

How could she resist? All morning long, Adrienne sent him up the ladders in search of more bottle-green books, and it did her heart good to watch as he tried to carry stacks down while maintaining his balance. Once, when it appeared that a particularly large armload would break free and crash to the floor, Adrienne intervened to hold the volumes in place long enough for Nathan to reach the threadbare carpet safely.

"This is a magnificent house, but it certainly needs more upkeep," he remarked.

"You should see Lady Thomasina's home in Cavendish Square. I wonder if she does not
prefer
cobwebs and tarnished brass...."

Nathan fingered the draperies and bit his lip. "And moth-eaten fabrics?"

"I've awakened each night to the sound of mice in my walls," Adrienne confessed in a whisper.

"I'll suggest to the house steward that a rat catcher be called. I am surprised that one isn't on staff." He glanced up in time to see Lady Thomasina herself trundling into the library. She was clad in an old-fashioned gown made of fraying striped silk and distinguished by a creaking set of paniers. A Welsh terrier followed in her wake, a chicken wing clutched between his bared teeth.

"At last you have deigned to join us, Mr. Essex!" her ladyship exclaimed.

Adrienne rejoined: "It seems that my
protector
has been at his leisure these past days, since his own employer, my father, is in France now and knows not whether I am being guarded."

"Sweeten your tongue, Miss Beau, or you shall drive him away again, and then you'll have only a mad old woman for company!"

Adrienne reddened, but Nathan laughed, as if it were all a jest. He stepped forward, sketched a bow, and lifted Lady Thomasina's hand for a brief kiss. "I can only say, in my own defense, that there is more to keeping Miss Beauvisage from danger than standing beside her. A related matter took me to Winchester."

"So gallant!" her ladyship pronounced, while Adrienne privately suspected that he had been passing his time with a local strumpet.

"And now that I am with you both again, I must inquire after your comfort. Are you feeling safe and secure, Lady Thomasina?"

"Infinitely more so now that you have returned, sir." She allowed him to help her into an old velvet tub-shaped chair, then called to the terrier. "Angus, darling, come to Mummy with your sweet little bone." When the dog had obeyed, Lady Thomasina returned her attention to Nathan. "Angus was one of his lordship's six Christian names, and when I gave it to my pet, it quite annoyed him. Every time he heard me call out to dear Angus, his face would turn blood-red. Apoplectic fits, I'd venture. The poor fellow was completely lacking in humor...."

Adrienne didn't know what to do, so she sidled over to the worktable, leaned over the newest stacks of books, and made a show of counting them. Nathan Essex had apparently lost interest in helping her, for he seemed perfectly content to sit close to Lady Thomasina and make amusing conversation. Soon even Angus had traded his smelly chicken bone for a nap on Nathan's booted foot.

Watching the cozy scene from afar, Adrienne knew just how Lord Harms had felt when he'd had those blood-boiling spells.

Minutes passed, and a maid wearing a soiled apron appeared with a tray of tea and miniature cakes. Lady Thomasina called for another serving for Mr. Essex, but seemed to forget that Adrienne was present. Instead, the pair shared cake bits with Angus.

An hour passed. Nathan read another chapter of
Ivanhoe.
Adrienne developed a raging headache from the mold spores that contaminated nearly every volume in the Harms library. She discovered a copy of Christopher Marlowe's
Passionate Pilgrim
and was reading happily, perched on her ladder, when, suddenly, she was noticed.

"Gadzooks, there you are, Miss Beau!" the old woman cried out as she craned her neck. "Hard at work? Good, good. Aren't we grateful to have this handsome creature here to make our labors more enjoyable?"

She couldn't manage more than a stiff smile for her employer but gave Nathan a stare that was meant to cut deep. Adrienne had been used to speaking her mind, often to excess, all her life, and no aspect of her new position was more frustrating than holding her tongue.

"On the subject of Miss Beau's labors," Nathan remarked conversationally, "I hope that you will allow me to make an observation. You do trust my judgment, don't you, my lady?"

"Of course!" She raised her quizzing glass. "What is it? Something about the Systems?"

"I would never presume to interfere with your Systems," he said gravely. "However, I do wonder if Miss Beau's true talents are being properly used these days."

"True... talents?"

"Perhaps she is too modest to tell you herself, but I have been informed that your companion possesses a keen intellect. It is
she,
not I, who is the scholar. Miss Beau is not only blessed with a vivacious temperament, she is an expert on literature, a lively reader, and an accomplished pianist as well. When her father agreed to her wish to travel here rather than return to the family's vast estate in France, it was with the understanding that his daughter would be given an opportunity to enrich her life with new experiences—and to help your ladyship to better enjoy your own life."

Lady Thomasina squinted, scratched her head, and ignored the clump of powder that dropped into her lap. "That was quite a speech, sir. Did you make it because Beauvisage is paying you?"

"I made it because I believe that Adrienne has a great deal to offer you—as a true companion, not as a filer of books. That job could be relegated to a few of your strong young footmen."

Her heart pounding with elation, Adrienne came toward them, wiping her hands on her apron. "Oh, my lady, if you would agree to Mr. Essex's... suggestion, I would be more than happy to
oversee
the work on the library. It would probably be a much more efficient plan, after all."

Lady Thomasina pursed her lips. "The pair of you haven't been conspiring against me, have you?"

Nathan's response was masterful. He leaned toward her, his deep-blue eyes holding hers, and murmured, "You don't believe that, do you? No, of course not. I am a fair man. I have only told you what I know to be true." A smile tugged at his mouth. "As for Miss Beau being in league with me on any matter, I fear that we have yet to exchange pleasantries about the weather without plunging into an argument."

"Well then, perhaps there is some merit in the case you've made. I'll consider altering Miss Beau's duties."

"We all may benefit from her increased good spirits." His tone was wry. "I suspect that this young lady hasn't been used to much physical labor, and it's taken a toll on her mood."

"Hmm." The old woman regarded Adrienne, who had inched forward to stand near them and was beaming. "If that smile is any indication, you're right!"

Adrienne blushed then, unable to look at Nathan. "My lady, while you ponder this matter, I shall return to the books."

"I'll bring more down from the upper shelves," Nathan announced.

Watching as the couple began to work together, Lady Thomasina realized that there was no one left to entertain her. "This won't do at all," she whispered to Angus. The terrier was looking bereft himself without Nathan's boot to doze upon. "We shall have to devise a better system. A system for the Systems."

* * *

All afternoon Adrienne could see that Lady Thomasina was preoccupied—and frustrated. How could she fault Nathan for working beside Adrienne after she had complimented his gallantry so often? So, as the day unfurled, Lady Thomasina was forced to amuse herself, pretending to read volumes of Boswell and Pepys when in fact she was watching the young pair over the tops of pages.

Suddenly Adrienne found her labors more enjoyable. Perhaps her good cheer was due to the sense that a victory over her irascible employer was at hand. Yet there was another kind of charge in the air. It seemed to have to do with the sight of Nathan Essex, coatless. The white expanse of his shirt heightened his rakishly sun-darkened visage, and the sight of his wide back and shoulders when he walked away from Adrienne carrying an armload of books made her feel oddly breathless....

"I cannot recall a duller afternoon!" Lady Thomasina cried suddenly.

Nathan stopped midway up the ladder and looked back at her. "My point exactly, my lady. If this work were more efficiently delegated, your companion and I would be free to devote ourselves to
your
needs."

"My head aches." She scowled. "I will take supper in my chambers."

"Let me help you." After jumping lightly to the floor, Nathan scooped up his coat, shrugged into it, and was at her side in an instant.

"I'm not a cripple," Lady Thomasina complained.

Angus peered up at Nathan and emitted a low growl.

"What sort of mood is this? Are you angry with me for telling the truth?" He gave the terrier a quelling glance, then slipped one arm around the stout old woman as he drew her out of the tub chair. For a moment, it seemed that she was stuck. "Lean forward a bit, my lady. There we are."

She visibly melted. "I like my own way. Always have."

"So I see. And you shall have it, if you don't mind sacrificing companionship for the organization of your library."

"You're stubborn."

He gave her a dazzling grin, their faces inches apart. "We understand each other."

Adrienne watched as they went out of the room together, arm in arm, Angus leading the way. Just before they disappeared through the doorway, she called, "Good day, my lady! I hope you feel better after a little rest. If there is anything I can do, please call upon me."

"Yes, yes."

Sighing, she returned to her awful labors. The sun began to slip toward the curve of the hill beyond the garden, and still Nathan did not come back to help again. So much for chivalry, Adrienne thought, despising him anew. Everything the man did was a performance, a means to an end. There wasn't a sincere bone in his body.

Her hair was coming loose, curls falling down her back as she clambered up the ladder one more time. The library was growing dark, yet no one had appeared to light candles. It was the worst place in the world. A volume of Fielding's
Tom Jones
caught Adrienne's eye and, biting her lip, she peeked inside. Her hip settled between ladder rungs as she strained in the dusky light to read a scene between Tom and a lusty tavern wench. How could such graphic behavior be in print for all the world to read?

Warm blood crept into her cheeks, and she forgot about the smell of mildew that clung to her skin and the aching of her shoulders. A strange, rather naughty feeling stole over her.

"I have good news."

The sound of Nathan's voice, shockingly close, gave her a terrible start. Instinctively trying to hide the book, Adrienne lost her balance and tumbled off the ladder. Nathan deftly caught her and managed to grab the forbidden volume of
Tom Jones
as it sailed past.

"Don't worry," he assured her. "I have you."

In agony, and all too aware of her disheveled state, she cried, "I'm fine! Let go!"

"Are you spending more time reading than sorting?" Nathan examined the book with lazy amusement. "Tsk, tsk. This is hardly fit for the eyes of a maiden. Were you enjoying it?"

"You are beastly!" Did he notice her sweaty old-book smell? He must think that she had degenerated into a scullery maid, in need of a bath
and
decorum! "Only a horrid
man
would enjoy a book like this! It's shocking!"

Nathan was shocked too by the force of his response to Adrienne in his arms. Her curves were even more alluring than he had imagined, and she had a salty-sweet scent that was enhanced by the sight of her curls tumbling from their pins. Her mouth reminded him of crushed cherries, inviting beyond belief. "You needn't be alarmed. I'm not going to hurt you, Adrienne."

"Just put me down!" Everything about him excited her: his hard male body, his appealing scent, the gleam of his hair and his eyes, and even those incongruous spectacles.

"Hold still a moment. Perhaps you've twisted your ankle?"

"No such thing!" Panic began to set in. Her breasts were crushed against his chest in a way that made her want to reach up for his shoulders, his mouth.... "I mean it, you—you rogue! Put me down before I scream for help!"

His eyes were thoughtful, and then he set her lightly on her feet and stepped back. "No need for hysterics."

"I was not hysterical!" Her voice broke, and that made her angrier. Why did she have to sound like a harridan at such a moment? "Stop smiling at me like that! I hardly think that Papa would approve of your behavior!"

"Your papa wouldn't ask the wolf to guard the chicken coop, would he? He trusts me implicitly." Shadows played over his face. "Perhaps you ought to as well."

She thrust out her chin and made no reply, while a chill spread over her body. As if reading her mind, Nathan hunkered down before the marble-faced fireplace and set about laying and lighting a fire. "God only knows when this chimney was last cleaned. Look at the soot! I've never been in a worse-managed house," he declared. "It's a bad piece of luck for both of us."

The flames licked upward, and Adrienne felt better as she held out her hands toward the comforting rays of warmth and light. Nathan had dusted himself off and was circling the library with a taper, lighting candles. When he returned to her side, they were both quiet as they soaked up the fireglow.

Finally Adrienne spoke tentatively. "Earlier, when your voice frightened me out of my wits, did you say something about good news?"