It had been a foolish moment.
She gave him what she hoped was a pragmatic smile. “Your offer is fair and would certainly make Louise happy.” She paused, weighing her next words. “It would be unwise for this to happen again.”
He tipped his head. In agreement, perhaps?
“May I have time to carefully consider your offer?” she asked.
“Of course.” He dipped his head, and her throat seized with emotion. How handsome he looked, with that dark lock of hair falling over his eyes. When he lifted his head, his eyes crinkled in their customary way. “Do not take too long, Henrietta, for I am an impatient man.”
Chapter Twenty
They left London the following day. Dominic amused himself by besting Louise at cards, but when the two-day trip ended, he was relieved. He’d been away from the estate too long.
They rolled into the drive, and he immediately called for his steward. While he waited, he perused the papers on his desk.
He had not seen Henrietta. She’d been sent ahead, with a different carriage. He supposed she was on the estate somewhere, puttering about. Their kiss seared his memory.
It changed things.
He could not kiss her again. One loose-lipped servant who saw them would be all it took to decimate Henrietta’s reputation.
The responsibility for her welfare weighed on him. Suppose she decided to stay as a governess? He’d been trying to be a better man for Louise’s sake. Perhaps even an attempt to please God, who was becoming more real to him every day.
He should not have allowed the kiss. He’d seen that look on her face. That open curiosity, the analytical wonder. He smacked the desk with his fist.
He had to stop thinking about her. Shooting to his feet, he rounded the desk.
“Where is the steward?” he barked.
The butler scooted into the room and neatly bowed, then said, “He made a trip to the village, my lord.”
“Ready my horse.”
A good solid ride should cure him of this angst, this ill-founded irritation.
“Dom?” Louise stood at the top of the stairwell. “What is wrong?”
I kissed your governess, and any honorable man would marry her. But he could not utter such a thing to his niece. He refused to marry. Not with blackmail and disease hanging over his head. He needed to find a cure so that he could live a normal life. Bitterness coated his mouth.
Beside Louise, the dog whined.
“I’m fine,” Dominic said abruptly.
“If you see her, tell her I am home and ready for lessons. Cook said she went to the village because her herbs died.”
Dominic gave his niece a curt nod, then left the house. If he waited for the steward to get home, he might avoid seeing Henrietta. That kiss...it wasn’t as if he’d never kissed anyone else. But he cared for Henrietta. He admired her.
He spurred his horse forward. By the time he reached the village, his thoughts had calmed. He found his steward at the livery. After inspecting the horses and asking after Mr. Smith’s family, which had just increased by one, he and his steward spent over an hour touring the estate and the farms.
As Dominic had suspected, the crops were not doing well. He approved his steward’s request to introduce a new method of farming. After all, if he didn’t do something, he’d have to find another source of income for the estate.
His own investments had done rather well, but he wanted to keep the incomes separate.
“Who is over there?” Mr. Phelps pointed to the next cottage, which sat on the crest of a hill. Two figures stood near one horse.
“Let’s see.” Dominic pointed his horse in that direction, and they rode over.
They arrived to see Henrietta mounting her horse.
“My lord.” The cottage’s mistress dropped into a deep curtsy.
“We are riding the estate. Is all well here?”
“Oh, yes.” The space between the woman’s freckles filled with pink. “It is so good of you to allow Miss Gordon to help us.”
“It was nothing,” said Henrietta. “I am happy to be of service.”
“Are you sure I cannot offer you something in return?”
“Quite sure.”
“Miss Gordon is in my employ. I shall see that she is properly recompensed.” He hated how stiff his voice sounded, but seeing her again was doing uncomfortable things to his composure. Her hair curled in wisps about her flushed face. Vibrancy shone from her features, and with a start of annoyance, he realized Phelps was staring at her.
“Very good, my lord.” The woman looked at Henrietta. “I change the bandage twice a day?”
“Yes, and I shall be back in a few days’ time to check the stitches.”
“I thank ye. More than you know.”
“You were smart to seek help immediately.”
“If you hadn’t been there—”
“But I was,” Henrietta said in a soft, soothing voice. “Do not hesitate to send word to the manor should you need something.”
They rode back to the estate together.
“Miss Gordon, this is Phelps, my steward.” Dominic did not miss the interested perusal Phelps gave her. Of course they were close in social stations. Phelps was probably at the age where he was looking for a wife.
Frowning, he listened as they engaged in small talk.
When they reached the stables, he sent Phelps on a meaningless quest to search out an invoice in his office. He turned to Henrietta, who was removing her riding gloves with a bemused look on her face.
“Your steward seems quite knowledgeable.”
“He is.” Dominic shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned back on his heels. “We should talk about that kiss.”
“There is nothing to say.” She tucked her gloves in her reticule. “If you’ll excuse me, I must attend to Louise now.”
“You stitched that woman?”
“You know that I did.”
“And how did you hear of her wounds?”
A flicker of unease crossed her face. “A villager came to the house.”
“I was uncouth to have kissed you.”
Her brow rose. Such a fine, delicately drawn brow, little owning to the tough resilience of
