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COLIN DESCENDED THE steps in route to the breakfast parlor at seven of the clock the next morning. Just because he had achieved less than four hours of sleep the night before was no reason to change his habits. Besides, there was much to do.
Last night during dinner with the countess and Abigail, they had hinted at potential problems with the estate. He had to meet with the estate manager, assess the situation, and attend to a myriad of other issues that would no doubt arise from that assessment.
But the estate’s problems had not been what caused his troubled sleep. Oh no. It had been Abigail. She had been a vision in dark blue velvet. The dress had been simple, demure. And yet the color emphasized her alabaster skin and slate eyes. She wore her dark brown hair in a low chignon and he had wanted to undo it, run his fingers through the mass of shiny curls and see them riot over his pillow.
It wasn’t only her physical beauty that hit him like a punch to his solar plexus. In the brief moments they had spent together, he had already discerned that she was as kind as she was beautiful. The quiet solicitude she displayed towards his invalid step-mother. Her lack of pretension. Her quiet strength. They were all qualities as alluring as the pure composition of her face.
He desired her. Plain and simple. If the situation was different, if they were different people, he would have liked to court this woman. But he was a misshapen beast, no proper match for a beauty such as her. And she lived in his home. Slept under his roof. Was under his protection. And therefore, was untouchable.
By the time he approached the breakfast room, his mood had taken a turn for the worse. His face had probably arranged into the ferocious lines that intimidated people and made him seem unfriendly. He stepped through the door and stopped as the object of his thoughts seemed to materialize right in front of him.
She was already there, serving herself from a plate of eggs at the sideboard. Her gaze met his and even at this distance, the impact of those eyes was like a lightning strike to his heart.
“Abigail.” he rasped, cleared his throat and tried again. “Good morning. I didn’t think anyone would be awake so early.”
She smiled one of those quiet smiles of hers and replied. “I always wake up early. There’s so much to do.”
“Is that so? What do you do in the mornings?”
“Sometimes I visit the tenants. Or I meet with the housekeeper, or the gardeners, then attend to any matter that may arise.”
“I see.” He said, taking a plate for himself and beginning to fill it with the offerings from the sideboard. There were eggs, potatoes, bacon, sausages. Everything one could desire, and judging by the smell wafting from the warmed dishes, it was all delicious.
It was obvious the house ran like a well-oiled machine, and since his stepmother was an invalid, it had to be Abigail’s doing. He added capable to the growing list of her virtues.
“Here, let me carry your plate.” He extended his hand, and she passed her half full plate to him after heaping a helping of sausages onto it.
They took their seats and, for a few moments, they concentrated on enjoying the excellent food in companionable silence. He was loath to introduce possible unpleasant topics, but he needed to know.
“Yesterday, you and the countess hinted at problems with the estate. Now that we are private, would you care to elaborate more?”
She hesitated, conflicted. “It is not my place to say.”
“Please speak frankly. I need someone I can trust who is familiar with the estate. No doubt I could discover any problems in time, but your information could save me a lot of work.”
Her gaze was steady and straightforward as she regarded him. “I don’t agree with the way Mr. Dunson is managing the estate. He refuses to do necessary repairs and improvements, has increased the rents twice and shows a complete disregard for the tenants and their concerns. And even though I have no proof, I suspect he might be defrauding the estate.”
“Is that so?” He could feel the anger boiling inside him. At himself mainly, for staying away for so long, ignoring his obligations.
“You will have the chance to find out for yourself. He would not allow either the countess, or myself on her behalf, to have any say in the running and the decisions.”
That decided it. “I plan to go riding after breakfast. I want to see the estate for myself before I meet with Mr. Dunson in the afternoon. Would you come with me? You can be my guide and point out the problems.”
“I don’t know. The countess–”
“I’m sure she will be gracious enough to spare you for a couple of hours. Especially for the good of the estate.” He interrupted, forestalling her excuses. He had an irresistible desire to have her by his side while he toured his lands.
“All right, my lord. Give me a few minutes to change into a riding habit and inform the countess. I will meet you in the front hall in half an hour.”
He shouldn’t feel so much satisfaction. It was a simple thing. To go for a ride together. But every moment he could have her all to himself felt like a precious gem.
***
BY THE END OF THEIR ride, he was convinced everything Abigail had told him was true. They hadn’t even covered a tenth of the estate and he could already see the signs of disrepair and poor management. The tenant houses had leaky roofs, the livestock and plant stock lacked quality, and the yields reflected that fact.
Every tenant they visited knew and liked her. He watched, entranced, as she called their children by name, and inquired about their concerns. She was the landlady this estate needed, and yet she had no authority.
As he listened to the long list of valid complaints and concerns his tenants had, shame engulfed him until he thought he would choke on it. He should have come at once. Damn his own pride and misgivings. These people, his people, were suffering because of his neglect. By the time they returned, clattering into the stable yard, he had made up his mind.
He would make it right. He would make it up to the people who depended on him. But he couldn’t do it alone. One thing was clear. He didn’t have the knowledge of estate management necessary to bring the estate back to rights.
Dismounting, he went to her and raised his arms to help her dismount. She hesitated and seemed reluctant to accept his help. Why was she so skittish around him? At last, she relented and placed her hands on his shoulders.
He lifted her down with ease, holding on to her waist for a moment longer than was proper. He should have let her go at once, but his hands refused to cooperate. Their gazes caught and held, and for an instant he thought he saw something in their slate depths. But then she shuddered and dropped her gaze, stepping back.
He had to force himself to let go of her waist. She felt so right in his arms. But her obvious discomfort was like a splash of icy water. Of course, she was not attracted to him. The feeling was entirely one sided. Beauties like her did not fall for beasts like him. He stepped back, giving her space. Scrambling for something to say to dispel the intimacy of the moment, to regain his sanity.
“I’m going to pay a visit to Mr. Dunson now. I think it is time to confront him and look at the books. Do you know where I could find him?”
Her eyes widened. “At this hour, he might still be at his house. Do you remember where the estate manager’s house is?”
He nodded.
“But you shouldn’t go alone. I’ll go with you.”
“No, if the meeting takes a downward turn, I don’t want to place you in an unpleasant situation. I’ll take Wang with me.”
She nodded once. “Take care, my lord.”
With that, she turned and walked towards the house, leaving him staring after her. ‘Take care’. Those two brief words warmed his heart. He shouldn’t read too much into it. It probably meant nothing, but he couldn’t help wanting and hoping.