Page 34 of The Paid Companion

“Oh, yes, very much,” Margaret replied dreamily. “Mr. Fleming and I spent a good deal of the time discussing the latest novels. It happens that he is a great fan of Mrs. Mallory’s works.”

Elenora managed, just barely, to conceal her amusement behind her handkerchief. “Mr. Fleming is obviously a man possessed of excellent taste.”

“That was certainly my opinion,” Margaret concurred.

Arthur frowned. “I have warned Bennett time and again that his habit of reading novels is likely the reason he takes such an unrealistic, ridiculously romantic view of the world.”

The carriage rumbled to a halt at the front steps of the St. Merryn mansion some twenty minutes later. The door was opened by a sleepy-looking Ned.

Margaret used the back of her gloved hand to pat a dainty yawn. “Gracious, I am exhausted after such a long evening. If you two will forgive me, I believe I shall take a candle and go straight to bed.”

She swept up the staircase with what Elenora could only describe as a spring in her step. Margaret did not appear the least bit tired, she thought. In fact, there was not only a lightness in her movements that seemed new this evening, there was also a certain brightness in her eyes.

Elenora was still pondering Margaret’s subtle new glow when she realized that Arthur was holding the candle aloft, surveying the room with a considering frown.

“Does this hall look different to you?” he asked.

She glanced at the furnishings. “No, I don’t think so.”

“It does to me. The colors appear brighter. The mirror is not so dark and the statues and vases seem newer.”

Startled, she took a closer look at the nearest marble figure. Then she chuckled. “Calm yourself, sir, there is nothing strange about the fresh look. Earlier today I gave instructions that this hall was to be properly cleaned while we were out. Judging from the layer of dust on the furnishings, it evidently had been some time since that was done.”

He looked at her with a speculative expression. “I see.”

His gaze made her uneasy for some obscure reason. “Well, then, it is quite late, is it not?” she said, striving for a polished, professional sort of demeanor. “I had best be off to bed myself. I am no more accustomed to these hours than Margaret.”

“I would like to speak with you before you go upstairs,” Arthur said.

It was an order, not a request. A sense of foreboding hovered over her. Was he going to let her go because of what had happened in the gardens?

“Very well, sir.”

Arthur glanced at Ned. “Off to bed with you. Thank you for staying awake until we got home, but it was unnecessary. We are perfectly capable of letting ourselves in when we return at such a late hour. In the future, do not bother to stay up. You require your rest.”

Ned looked quite startled by his employer’s gesture of appreciation. “Aye, sir. Thank you, sir.” He left quickly.

A moment later Elenora heard the door to the lower part of the house close with a muffled thud. Ned had vanished into the servants’ quarters downstairs.

The front hall suddenly seemed very close and—there was no other word for it—intimate.

“Come, Miss Lodge. We’ll go into the library to have our conversation.”

Arthur picked up a candle and led the way down the hall.

She followed cautiously. Was he annoyed by the overly enthusiastic manner she had exhibited during that kiss? Perhaps she could explain that she had been equally surprised by her heretofore unexpected acting talents.

Arthur ushered her into the library and closed the door with an unmistakable air of finality.

Elenora felt a sense of doom descend upon her.

Without a word, Arthur set the candle down and crossed the carpet to the hearth. He went down on one knee and coaxed the embers into a blaze. When he was satisfied, he rose, untied his neckcloth and tossed it over a nearby chair. Then he unfastened his white linen shirt far enough to reveal a few curling dark hairs on his chest.

Elenora forced herself to look away from his bare throat. She must concentrate, she thought. Her post was at stake. She could not let him dismiss her out of hand simply because she had kissed him with a little too much exuberance. All right, make that a great deal of exuberance, she amended silently. Either way, it was not her fault.

She cleared her throat. “Sir, if you disapprove of my suggestion that we embrace earlier this evening, I apologize. However, I must point out that you did hire me in large part for my acting skills.”

He picked up the brandy decanter. “Miss Lodge—”

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