“Ah!” he groaned, rubbing his temples. “What’s that noise?”
She laughed. “It’s the sound of children playing.”
“Children? In this house?”
“My sisters are here, remember?”
“Oh . . .”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize they were raising such a ruckus. I’ll tell them to pipe down.”
She started to rise, but he reached over and furtively squeezed her hand.
“No, don’t. They can be as loud as they like. I don’t mind.”
The butler traipsed in, two footmen trailing after him, carrying trays laden with food.
It had been over a year since they’d served their master, so they’d made a huge fuss. Platter after platter was arranged before him, eggs and toast and fruit and ham. The choices went on and on until it became embarrassing. It was enough for an army, but he scarcely noticed.
The butler hovered, waiting for a word, a command, but Nicholas remained slumped in his chair.
“Shall I prepare a plate for you, my Lord Stafford?” the butler said.
“I can do it myself.”
“How about Miss Wilson? We weren’t aware she was joining you.”
Nicholas glared at her, mutely asking if she was hungry, and she smiled at the butler. “I don’t need anything, Mr. Jenkins. I rose at a normal hour and ate at a normal hour. Unlike some people I could name.”
“Has she always been this sassy?” Nicholas inquired of Mr. Jenkins.
“Ah . . . ah . . .” The elderly gentleman was too polite to answer honestly.
“Should I have her whipped for insubordination? Or should I simply dunk her in the horse trough until she cools off?”
The butler’s eyes were round as saucers, and the footmen gaped with alarm.
“Quit being obnoxious,” she admonished. “They assume you’re serious.”
“I am serious.”
“He is not,” she scoffed to the three men.
“If you keep jabbering so I can’t eat, you’ll discover how serious I am.” He waved the servants away, and as they hurried out, he called to Mr. Jenkins, “If she continues to pester me, I’ll have you bring me a whip.”
The poor fellow stiffened with affront, but trudged on.
“You are horrid,” she said as their strides faded. “They’ll spread tales that you’re a brute.”
“I am a brute, now be silent and let me dine in peace.”
He filled his plate to overflowing and wolfed it down. He filled it again and wolfed it too. She poured his tea, watching as he ate and ate and ate.
Finally, he shoved the food away, and he slouched, scowling.
“All right.” He sighed. “I’m ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“What have I done this time? You only seek me out to chastise me.”
“I do not.”
“You do too. I feel as if I’ve hired a nanny. What crisis has arisen? Let’s see if I can fix it.”
He gazed at her, his hot attention sending shivers down her spine. He was dangerous and delectable, and she yearned to reach out and touch him. It was so difficult to pretend they were barely acquainted.
“You bought me clothes.”
“That’s your problem?”
“Yes. I didn’t ask for them.”
“No, you didn’t, but you need a new dress more than any woman I’ve ever met.”
“You’re missing the point.”
“What is it? Would you please get to it? I’ve slept late, and I have a thousand chores to finish.”
“People will talk.”
“I don’t care.”
“They’ll think that I . . . earned them in an indecent way.”
“You did earn them in an indecent way.” She sucked in a shocked breath, and he squeezed her hand again. “I’m joking, Em.”
“My neighbors won’t know that. I have to live here after you go back to London. I can’t have my reputation ruined.”
“I had Mr. Mason burn all your possessions. I owe you.”
“I still have a gown or two. I stuffed a pillowcase with the last of my things. I’m fine.”
“I can’t stand to have you walking around like a frump. You’re too pretty.”
“Thank you for the lovely compliment”—she blushed to high heaven—“but I can’t accept any gifts.”
“Not even for your sisters? You’d rather have them attired in rags?”
He studied her, his focus warm and inviting, then he jumped up and went to the door. He opened it and hollered as he yanked and yanked on the bell pull.
“Mr. Jenkins, I need you!”
The beleaguered man thundered up the stairs, obviously worried there was a calamity brewing.
“Yes, yes, milord, what is it?”
“I had Miss Wilson’s cottage destroyed.”
“I am aware of that fact, sir.”
“She and her sisters have nothing left—because of me.”
Jenkins made a feeble gesture, and he peered over at Emeline for assistance. She shrugged.
“In order to redeem myself,” Nicholas said, “I have bought them some clothes. I realize it’s odd for me to lavish her with such an extravagance, but I’m very sorry for my behavior. It’s my penance.”
Jenkins gawked at Emeline, then Nicholas, then Emeline, and he nodded. “Very good, sir.”
“While I’m in residence, she’ll be busy attending me.”
“I see.”
“There should be no concern over it.”
“I’m certain there won’t be, milord.”
“I’ve hired her as my . . . my . . . secretary.”
“Your . . . secretary?”
Emeline gasped. Women didn’t serve as secretaries. It was unheard of. Only men were deemed intelligent enough to handle such complicated tasks.
“Mr. Mason has informed me,” Nicholas kept on, “that she was overly educated by her father.”
“Too true, sir.”
“I decided to put all that schooling to work for me.”
“A wise idea, I’m sure.”
“This is another reason she needs clothes. She can’t be employed by me in such an important capacity while looking like a pauper.”
“Definitely not.”
“Tell everyone what I’ve told you,” he said. “I’ll have no disrespectful gossip about her. She’s living in the manor because of her job. She has to have a wardrobe commensurate with her position. Anyone who spreads rumors will answer to me.”
“Yes, my Lord Stafford.”
Nicholas eased him out. “That will be all. You’re excused.”
He shut the door in Jenkins’s stunned face, and he paused, listening until the man’s steps faded, then he turned to her. He was grinning like an idiot.
“You are crazy,” she fumed.
“Crazy like a fox.” He tapped a finger on his temple. “Now I can spend as much time with you as I like, and it won’t be considered unusual. And if I want to buy you a new dress, I damn well will, and I won’t have to hear you
