Page 85 of An Unwilling Earl
The thought shook him. He’d not wanted to love another woman again. He’d loved Cora with everything inside of him and had thought he had died when she’d died, but apparently he hadn’t. He’d been dormant, numb.
Until Charlotte.
He pushed off of her and stuffed himself back in his trousers while she sat up and straightened her skirts. Her hair was adorably mussed, and she tried in vain to smooth it down. He liked her short hair. It made her different than the other women, and it suited her delicate features. Made her seem more of a pixie.
“Hullo!”
They froze, their shocked gazes colliding.
Jacob put a finger to his lips to keep her silent and reached into his jacket for his small pocket pistol. He wasn’t one to usually carry a firearm, but in the light of the circumstances surrounding her cousin, and to keep Charlotte safe, he’d been carrying one for the past few days.
He pulled it out now, and Charlotte’s wide eyes fixed on the pistol.
Jacob quietly made his way to the door and mouthed to her, “Stay here.”
He slowly opened the door and stuck his head out.
A man was climbing the steps. He was older, nearly bald, clutching a cap, his eyes darting back and forth.
“Can I help you?” Jacob stepped out and firmly closed the door behind him.
The man stopped, obviously surprised to see someone here. “Who are you?” he asked rather sharply.
“I should be asking you that question. I am the owner of this house.”
The man’s eyes widened, and he clutched his cap tighter. “I’m Frances Cohen, the caretaker here. I check on the house every now and again. I suspect you’re the new Earl of Ashland?”
“I am.” He continued to hold his pistol loosely at his side. The man seemed harmless enough, but these days you just couldn’t tell, and he realized he’d never gotten the name of the caretaker.
“I come by every three days or so. Saw the front door was unlocked and got suspicious. You shoulda told me you were coming, my lord. I woulda had some of the women come in an’ freshen the place up.”
“No worries. I just discovered that I had inherited this place recently, and my wife and I were just taking a look around.”My wife.It still seemed so odd to say that.
Mr. Cohen’s gaze flickered around as if he were looking for Jacob’s wife but was too polite to ask about her whereabouts.
“She’s in the mistress’s bedchamber. Probably trying to decide what changes she wants to make.” Jacob smiled as if to say, “You know women.”
Mr. Cohen grinned back. “It will be good to have someone living here. When are you planning on moving in?”
“We hadn’t talked about it,” Jacob said. “Probably soon. We don’t have much to bring over from where we live now.” He felt a pang at the thought of giving up his townhouse. It was where he had brought Cora to live. Where their son had been born and where they’d both died.
“Well, you just let me know, my lord, and we’ll get the place all tidied up for you. Needs some dusting, is all, and the furniture coverings taken off and the rooms aired out. Course we’ll need to have someone go to the market and stock the kitchen. That would require a cook.”
“I have a cook who will be delighted to take over the kitchen.” He wasn’t sure “delighted” was the correct word to use for Mrs. Smith’s reaction. She didn’t know yet that she would be in charge of the kitchen of such a grand house. But Mrs. Smith had been with him and Cora from the beginning. She had helped him through his grief, and he wasn’t about to abandon her now.
“Of course, of course,” Mr. Cohen said. “You just let me know.”
“I’ll be sure to do that.”
An awkward silence followed in which Mr. Cohen stood there expectantly, and Jacob thought Charlotte was probably pressing her ear to the door.
“Well, I best be going,” Mr. Cohen finally said.
“I’ll lock up when we leave.”
Mr. Cohen nodded and reluctantly headed back downstairs. Only when Jacob heard the front door close did he breathe a sigh of relief and pocket his pistol. It seemed that Mr. Cohen was reluctant to give up his job as caretaker. Maybe Jacob could find something for him to do once they moved in.
He opened the door to the bedchamber, and Charlotte jumped back. Yes, she most definitely had been eavesdropping.
