Page 123 of While You Were Spying

Ethan arched a brow. “That you enjoyed yourself?”

She punched him lightly, now twisting her hair into a coil at the nape of her neck. “Be serious! I shudder to think of the impression I’m making on your staff.”

“I don’t know about them,” he said, pulling her back against his chest and ruining the order she’d just restored to her hair. “But you’re making an excellent impression on me.”

She smiled, unable to imagine herself any happier than at that moment—safe in his arms, the center of his attention. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment, but when she opened them a few minutes’ later, her thoughts had turned to Winterbourne Hall and her new role as chatelaine. Her mother had lectured on her duties as mistress of such a grand estate interminably as they’d packed and prepared for her wedding. Now Francesca felt a pinch of chagrin that she hadn’t yet begun to formulate her strategy for dealing with Winterbourne Hall’s staff or to probe Ethan for a history of the house as her mother had advised. Good Lord, she’d wasted practically a whole day!

When she glanced up at Ethan, she saw he’d closed his eyes and was resting his head comfortably against the soft squabs of the coach. “Ethan?”

“Hmm?” His arm tightened around her waist, anchoring her to him more securely.

“It’s very important to me to make a good impression on your staff.”

He didn’t open his eyes, just nodded.

“I want them to respect and like me.”

“They will,” he murmured.

“Do you think so?”

“Yes.” He opened his eyes. “I hope they don’t completely throw me over for you.”

She frowned in confusion. “What a ridiculous thing to say. Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Oh, I don’t know. The servants at Tanglewilde?”

“What do they have to do with anything?”

“Maybe it was the way each of them managed to turn my short interviews about your attack into an opportunity to further your application for sainthood.”

“They were trying to protect me.” She waved his statements away, rocking on his lap from the movement. “They didn’t know you then. They didn’t know your intentions.”

“What about the defection we witnessed yesterday morning? I’d have needed half a dozen more coaches and another estate to accommodate all the servants insisting on accompanying us.”

“Now thatisan exaggeration!” She straightened indignantly and had to grasp his arm to steady herself. “Besides, they would never have left Tanglewilde. It was a gesture, a way to say goodbye.”

“Francesca, they had their valises with them.”

“I’m sure they were empty.”

He gave her a dubious look, closed his eyes, and settled back on the green-and-gold material of the cushioned seat once again. “Were I you, I wouldn’t worry about my staff at Winterbourne Hall. You’ll win them over in no time.”

She clasped her hands together. “I sincerely hope so. But I would have your assistance.”

He opened one eye. “My assistance?”

She nodded and scooted off his lap onto the seat across from him. He scowled at her, but she couldn’t risk the distraction of his closeness. Schooling her face into what she hoped was its most serious expression, she waited for him to give her his full attention. He regarded her as a mouse regards a cat.

“I’m sure I will regret asking this, but how exactly am I supposed to assist you?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking—”

“A bad sign,” he mumbled.

She pretended not to hear. “I’ve been thinking it might help if I had some background on the house and the staff before I arrived. That way I can impress everyone with the extent of my knowledge and familiarity with the estate. Don’t you think that would make this adjustment easier for all of us?” An idea came to her just then, and she eyed him suspiciously. “The staffisaware I’m coming, aren’t they?”

“I sent word.”

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