Page 72 of The Heir
“The Earl of Westhaven Memorial Chicken Pox Ward,” Anna quipped, trying desperately for a light tone.
“Among other things. How do you like it?”
She’d intended this to be a masculine room, decorating it in subdued greens with blue accents and choosing more substantial incidental furniture with fewer frills and fripperies. The canopy on the bed had been replaced with dark green velvet, the bed spread dyed to match. The drapes were a lighter version of the same shade, and all of it complemented the dark wood of the bed frame and the colorful Persian carpets scattered on the hardwood floors.
“You are quiet,” Westhaven said. “I hoped you would be pleased with the differences.”
“I’m pleased.” Anna smiled at him. “This is not a room for the lady of the house.”
“It is not, of course,” the earl agreed. “We saw those rooms earlier. I wanted this to be a room worthy of the memories I hold of it.”
“Westhaven…” Anna sighed. “You were being so good.”
“I was, and I’m glad you appreciate the effort, but I’ve left you in peace for days now, Anna, and you didn’t come here without expecting me to make some advances.”
“I came here,” Anna said, sitting down in an upholstered rocker, “to comply with your request to see the house set to rights. I’ve done that, so we can return to Town now.”
“And make Pericles travel in the worst heat of the day.”
She glared at him and rose. “Do not put the welfare of your horse above my reputation,yet again. Dear Pericles can walk us back to Town for all I care, but our work here is finished.”
“Our work, perhaps.” The earl regarded her levelly. “Not our dealings. Come.” He took her hand and led her to window seat. She didn’t resist when he pulled her down beside him and kept her hand trapped in his.
“Talk to me, Anna,” he said, wrapping his second hand around the back of hers. “You’ve become inscrutable, and I have enough sisters to know this is not a good thing.”
“You would leave me no privacy.” But when the earl stretched out his legs, his thigh casually resting against hers, she did not move away.
“You have more privacy than anyone else in my household,” the earl chided. “You answer only to me, have the run of the property, and have the only private sitting room on four floors besides my own. And”—he kissed her knuckles—“you are stalling.”
She laid her head on his shoulder, closed her eyes, and felt him nuzzling at her temple.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured, “tell me what’s troubling you. Dev says you’ve shadows in your eyes, and I have to agree.”
“Him.” Anna’s head came off his shoulder.
“Has he offended? Pinched Nanny Fran one too many times? Offended Cook?”
“He has offended me,” Anna said on a sigh. “Or he would, if I could stay mad at him, but he’s just protective of you.”
“The duke used that same excuse to nearly unravel my niece’s entire family. He was protecting me when he bribed Elise, and he was protecting someone every time he crossed the lines his duchess would not approve of.”
“I pointed out the parallel to St. Just when he warned me not to trifle with you.”
“And here I’ve been pleasuring myself nigh cross-eyed because you won’t trifle with me,” the earl said. Anna smiled at his rejoinder despite herself. When she glanced over, he obligingly crossed his eyes.
“What else did St. Just have to say?” the earl prompted when the moment of levity had passed.
“If you value me, he will, as well. I don’t know what that meant, Westhaven. He is a difficult man to read.”
“He was welcoming you to the family, and all without a word to me.”
“If that is his welcome, one shudders to consider his threats.”
“He says you are a lady with secrets. I could not gainsay him.”
“I was a lady once,” Anna said, not meeting his eyes. “I am in service now.”
“And you choose to remain in service rather than accept my suit. It is very lowering to think my kisses, my wealth, I myself, am less appealing to you than bouquets needing water or silver in need of polish.”
