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RORY HAD BEEN CAREFUL to avoid him. After their last interaction, he thought that was a good idea. He regretted what he had done and that he had caused her such discomfort in her own home. He knew that she had been surprised by her own response and that would be upsetting to her. She probably wondered if she was making the same bad decisions her aunt had.
Clayton didn’t want to be responsible for ruining another person’s life. Losing his brother was enough guilt for an entire lifetime.
There was a storm rolling in from the north that made Clayton nervous. He could see the dark clouds as they approached and knew that storms this time of year could cause a lot of damage. He worried that some of their hard work would be lost if it got too bad.
“One of us should go up and check to make sure the roofing tiles have dried and will be able to hold out in the storm,” Clayton told Rex. “Perhaps a few of the overhanging trees should be trimmed back to avoid limbs falling on the roof.”
“It’s been a long time since I climbed a tree.”
Clayton had never been the type for much outdoor play as a child. He preferred to lounge beneath it and enjoy the shade. It wasn’t until after his new life began that his perspective on such things changed.
“I’ve exited a few bedrooms with the use of one, so I will take care of that while you are up on the roof.”
“Why doesn’t any of that surprise me?”
“It’s important to have a wide variety of skills.” Rex gave him a grin that would have made any proper woman blush, and Clayton had to laugh.
It was only early afternoon, but it was already beginning to grow dark. Both of them knew they needed to hurry or there wouldn’t be enough light to work by. Clayton was glad to find that all the new roofing was firm and should have no problems with the storm. Rex was a few feet in the air in one of the trees that hung over the garden. He had already removed a number of limbs and appeared to be reaching for just one more.
“Should he really be up there dangling like that?” asked Darla as she stood below the tree in a cloak and watched Rex work.
She held her hat to her head with one hand as it struggled with the wind. Within the other, she clutched the cloak tightly at her neck. Those soft brown eyes were watching every move Rex made, and Clayton suspected there was concern for him there.
“Rex has always been good at climbing. When we used to build houses in Africa, he was always the one to scramble up the side and assist with the awnings. This is easy for him.”
As he spoke, Rex missed his footing on one of the limbs and fell forward, catching himself before he fell very far. Darla gasped and moved forward another step. Clayton took her by the arm; it would do no good if she was under the tree when Rex fell.
“I’m fine.” Rex sounded frustrated. “Tell her to go inside so I can work without distractions.”
“How can I be a distraction? I’m just standing here.”
“I can hear you breathing.”
Clayton had to bite his lip to keep from laughing at them bickering like an old married couple. He wondered if Rex realized how friendly he had become with Miss Capshaw in the last couple weeks.
“I will go inside when you are safely on the ground.”
“That would happen faster without an audience.”
In the distance there was a rumble, and Clayton looked up to see the darkest clouds were directly overhead now.
“Perhaps Miss Capshaw is right and you should just get down. That one branch isn’t going to make much of a difference.”
“It’s already cracked at the trunk. If any of them are going to break in the wind, it will be this one.” Rex had positioned himself directly beside the limb they were discussing. “It won’t take me much to get it down.”
That was when the clouds decided to unleash the rain. It didn’t fall slowly or lightly, but in a thick rush. It doused them all and sloshed against the roof of the house. Darla didn’t run into the house like most women would but stood there shouting through the noise at Rex, still dangling in the tree.
“Get down, you fool, before you are washed away by the rain,” she called, her words matching Clayton’s thoughts.
“Doesn’t it look like I’m trying?” Rex yelled back.
He was carefully trying to lower himself down limb by limb, but it was more difficult now. He couldn’t trust his grip since the wood was now slick. That made him move more slowly, and Clayton held his breath each time his friend had to swing to another branch. He was within jumping distance of the ground when he took his leap, but the ground was wet and his footing slipped. He landed with a thud and a string of curse words.
“Are you hurt?” Darla rushed to him faster than Clayton could, and regardless of how it might ruin her dress, she knelt beside him. She smacked him hard across the cheek. “You reckless lunatic. You could have died if you had fallen from a greater height.”
“You need to work on your bedside manner.” Rex rubbed his chin with his palm. He tried to stand but wasn’t able to get up to his feet. “I think I have hurt my knee.”
“We need to get him into the house,” said Darla. “Can you get his left side while I get his right?”
Clayton was uncertain that she would be able to manage half of such a big man, but the lady was stronger than she looked. Between the two of them, they were able to drag Rex into the parlor and onto one of the sofas. All three of them were soaking wet and dripping on the newly cleaned carpet.
Rory came in as Clayton was starting a fire and Darla was ordering some tea from one of the servants.
“What happened?” She stood there, frozen with a perplexed expression.
“The weather caught us. It’s looking to be a pretty bad storm.”
Rex looked over at Clayton while he stoked the fire and tried to get up from the sofa, but he fell back into it with a grunt. Rex cursed out loud, making both the ladies in the room blush. Clayton could see the bloom of color on Rory’s cheeks even in the dim firelight.
“How badly are you injured?” Rory asked, ignoring the man’s rough behavior.
“It’s his knee. I think it might be twisted up pretty badly. He might need a doctor.”
“There is one in the village, but I don’t think you will make it in this storm.”
“Nonsense. We can fetch him after we return to the inn,” Rex said, but the way his face twisted in pain showed he was not going to be able to move much on his own.
“I’m not going to risk losing my entire work crew in this storm,” Rory said, her voice stern. “You will both stay here for the night. We can put Rex in the guest room, and Clayton can sleep in the parlor.”
Darla’s expression resembled a fish plucked from the water, her mouth flopping open and shut. Her eyes were wide and staring at Rory like she had gone mad. “What if people found out they were here?”
“There is no one to ask. We can’t send them out into this storm, hoping they make it to the village. If they don’t, I won’t have it on my conscience.”
“It’s not safe,” Darla insisted.
Rory tilted her head to the side and laughed. “They are men, not wild animals. I think we can trust they will behave during the night.”
Darla shot Rex a look that said she wasn’t as confident in that.
“If it will make you feel better, we can lock the doors to our rooms.”
“Excuse me, but I resent the implication that I would be sneaking into a lady’s room in the middle of the night.” Rex propped himself up on his elbows. “I have never entered one that I wasn’t invited into.”
“You will be getting no such invitations here,” Darla said.
“Good, it would be rude to reject a woman in her own house.”
“You scoundrel!”
The two of them appeared to be close to physical violence, so Clayton decided to step in.
“We agree to the locked doors and won’t be any trouble.” He gave Rex a look that made the man shut his mouth.
In truth, he felt more at ease knowing that she would be on the other side of a locked door. He wouldn’t want anything to happen that might cause the servants to talk. They might not be in London, but word traveled quickly.
Clayton helped Rex up the stairs and into the bed. He felt uneasy leaving his friend in there alone, but he really had no choice. The storm was only getting worse, and they both needed some sleep. After they said goodnight to Rex, the rest of them decided to turn in as well. He watched Rory go into her room, and then there was the click of the lock. He didn’t have time to think about the situation because he was exhausted and fell asleep almost immediately after lying down on the parlor sofa.
In the distance, Clayton heard the soft and sultry sound of Rory saying his name. It sounded like a melody when she said it over and over to a rhythm. The beat sounded like thumping, and he began to drift awake as it got louder. That’s when he realized that she was knocking on the doorway to the parlor and wouldn’t stop until he woke up. Trying to shake the sleep from his mind, Clayton replied with her name.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, but I wanted to make sure you were going to be able to sleep there tonight.”
From his place on the sofa he could see her standing in the doorway with one hand bunched in her skirts and a candle in the other. There were traces of crumbs on her dress and a redness around her eyes. Rory had been eating and crying, which was not a good sign. She would have only been doing that if she was deeply concerned.
“What is the weather like?” Clayton asked, hoping to ease her worries with logic.
“It’s still raining, with thunder and lightning. Not much has changed.”
“If it has been raining this entire time, most like the roads have become flooded. It’s a good thing that we decided not to travel in it.”
He could see some of the tension ease from her body. Clayton propped himself up on the sofa, making sure to keep the blanket high around his waist. He had been sleeping without a shirt on, and he was attempting to be modest around her. Then he motioned to an empty chair nearby. Relief washed across her expression, bringing with it the slightest smile.
“How are you feeling?” Rory asked as she took the seat and placed the candle on the small table beside the chair for light.
“Much better.”
“I suppose I shouldn’t be so worried about a simple storm.”
“No, but I can understand why you might be. Storms can get out of hand and do a great deal of damage.”
The two of them fell into a silence that neither felt the need to break. Clayton enjoyed watching the way the light from the candle played across her face. It made all the delicate details more pronounced from the soft shape of her lips to the elegant arch of her brows. When she looked back at him, the flicker of light in the soft hazel color was mesmerizing. It reminded him of a hypnotist he saw once at a village bazaar. He could use the dancing flame to make people do all kinds of tricks. He felt under her spell now, wondering if she could make him do anything she wanted.
For her part, Rory seemed to be dozing off in the chair. He knew it must be late, and he wondered if she had slept at all since they had parted ways for the night. If not, she was probably as tired as he was. Perhaps she was too worried to sleep and needed to be reassured again that everything would be all right. Or she needed a distraction that might help her to find sleep.
“Did I ever tell you about the first storm I was in when I got to Africa?” Clayton asked, his tone smooth and soothing.
Rory perked up a bit in her seat. “No. Was it as bad as this?”
“Worse.” Clayton could laugh about it now, but back then he had been frightened for his life. “I was working at a diamond mine and we all had to sleep out in these tents. When the rain came down, it soaked through the cloth, getting everything inside it wet. That included me and the clay I was sleeping on.”
“That must have been terrible.”
“It was disgusting. I woke up so covered in in mud that I looked like my skin was red.” Clayton was laughing now. “The boss said I looked like a blue-eyed devil, and for a while the name stuck.”
Rory laughed and he was glad that he could ease her worries.
“That was actually when my mentor found me. He had come to the camp looking for a young man to serve as an apprentice and learn from him.” Clayton stopped laughing as he thought about his previous mentor. “The man changed my life and gave me a purpose.”
“When did he pass away?”
“About a year ago. How did you know?”
“My brother gets that same look when he talks about our parents. I assume I do too, but I’m never looking in the mirror at the time.”
Clayton could see the expression she was talking about, and she did have it after mentioning her parents. He wondered if he would get the same look if he talked about his brother.
“I will let you get to sleep now.” Rory walked to the door and hesitated. “I’m sorry that I woke you.”
“I don’t mind.”
Clayton realized he wasn’t entirely honest only after he heard the click of the lock.