Page 19 of A Duke Changes Everything
She exhaled sharply, as if she’d been holding a breath, and offered him the slightest hint of a grin.
That one little sliver of kindness and Nick’s body tightened. He resisted the instinct to lean closer. He hated how much he wanted her grin to bloom. For some inexplicable reason, he craved approval from this woman.
But her grin faded and Miss Thorne gazed at him with the same mix of wariness and loathing as when she’d stepped down from the old oak. As if she’d never forget what he tried so hard to forget—that he would always be his father’s son.
In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to send the woman and every other staff member at Enderley packing. He could hire new servants and sweep away everything from this wretched place’s past.
But it wasn’t efficient. Securing new employees would take time. He wanted to flee these stones, not lengthen his stay.
“You needn’t worry.” Nick stepped back and settled against his father’s desk, arms braced across his chest. “I have no intention of dismissing you.”
The tightness in her jaw softened. “And the rest of the staff?”
“They can stay too. For now.” What the hell was wrong with him? A quarter hour’s resistance from Miss Thorne and he was already conceding. “Though the young maid may have to go.”
“Hildy?”
“She screamed when she got a look at me. I don’t blame her, of course, but she might be happier somewhere else.” He didn’t relish the child’s shrieks every time he encountered her in the hall.
“She’s just a girl.” Miss Thorne scanned his face. Nick assumed she sympathized with the young housemaid’s response to him, at least until her gaze fell to his lips and her breath seemed to catch in her throat.
It was almost as if the odd creature found something to admire in the shape of his mouth.
“A skittish girl,” he said.
Miss Thorne blinked and squared her shoulders. “One who relies on her position at Enderley. Allow me to speak to her before you dismiss her?”
“What will you tell her? That I’m not the ogre I seem to be?”
She began to speak and then pressed her lips together, as if thinking better of whatever retort sat on the tip of her tongue.
“Say it,” he urged quietly, because apparently the one thing that had been missing from his life was a woman who couldn’t decide whether or not she loathed him.
“Whether you’re an ogre or not remains to be seen, Mr. Lyon.”
Nick grimaced. “Keep the jittery little housemaid, Miss Thorne. I’m sure she’ll get used to this.” He gestured vaguely at his face.
“Thank you.” Her voice went breathy, uncertain. The first real crack he’d seen in her no-nonsense manner.
Nick swallowed against a lump of unease. He moved behind his father’s desk. After a moment’s hesitation, he pulled out the old devil’s chair and sat on the cold, stiff leather.
She stood in front of him, tense and expectant, as if awaiting her first instructions as his steward.
“The fact is, I need you, Thorne.” To get out in a fortnight, he’d need her efficiency most of all. “I’ll be relying on your knowledge of the estate and leadership with the staff.”
“I’ll serve you as diligently as my father served yours.”
Nick narrowed his gaze. “Our relationship will be different than theirs.” He leaned forward, flattening his palms on top of his father’s desk. Nowhisdesk. “You’re going to help me get the estate in order.”
“Yes, of course.” Her eyes lit as if he’d just offered her the moon. “I have a list. I can’t tell you how glad the staff are to have you in residence, to direct them and see to all that needs doing.”
“Good.” A little muscle under Nick’s eye twitched. She wouldn’t like the rest. “I’ve begun reviewing the inventories you prepared and noted that some are not finished.”
“No, but you did arrive early. I’ll ensure all of them are updated by end of day tomorrow.”
“Excellent.” Nick stared at the beaten leather blotter of his father’s desk rather than into the amber gaze he sensed tracking his every movement. “I need a notation of everything of value with detailed descriptions so I can send the inventories off to the auctioneer.”
“Auctioneer?” The syllables came out slowly, as if she’d never heard the word before. As if she couldn’t fathom its meaning. At least not in relation to Enderley.
