Page 26 of A Lady's Curves
I cross to him. “This one is very nice.”
“You look as if something is wrong. In fact, I sensed through the entire journey that you were not yourself.”
I could lie and say there is nothing wrong and he’s mistaken. But his expression is so sincere and kind, I can’t bear to lie. “My father’s home is not far from here and to avoid him, Ihave rarely entered the county. However, I must be here and I will do all that I can to help you, my lord.”
Slowly, he crosses the threshold and stands inches from me. “My name is Oscar. I am sorry that this trip has made you uncomfortable.”
My discomfort is immeasurable with him so close, but not unpleasant. My body responds to our proximity in ways only Oscar elicits, as all my blood goes south and I have to squeeze my thighs together. “Oscar, Lady Chervil is just next door. Perhaps you shouldn’t be in here.”
His lips quirk into a half smile. “Will you come downstairs for something to eat?”
I nod. “I would like to rest for a few minutes first.”
Bowing, he backs away. “Take all the time you need.”
Once he is gone, I miss him. I’m such a fool.
Oscar
Having Ann at Kensfield makes the place so much more tolerable. So much so that I can’t quite remember what I disliked about the estate. I spent most of my youth in these ornate rooms and halls. Yet, the first time I was allowed to go to Scotland with my father, I decided that Bielddubh was where I would settle when the title came to me.
The name of the Scottish hunting lodge means black shelter and it fits perfectly. Large and dark, it has been the perfect place to see and commune with the natural world.
Yet as I stand at the library window, looking out on the gardens and grounds beyond Kensfiled, there is much to like.
“How did he manage this?” Ann asks from my father’s desk.
I suppose it’s my desk now, but it’s hard to think of the behemoth as mine. Dark wood that stretches eight feet wide. Ann looks confident in my father’s chair, just as she did in London. Perhaps she fits no matter where she is. “Have you found something?”
Shaking her head, she studies the ledger. “I don’t know. Yes. Maybe. I found an entry for the farmer’s seed.”
“That’s not unusual. I always supply the seed for my leased farms. It gives the families a little boost.” It seems a small thing. My father did the same. I know it’s not conventional, but why does Ann look as if it’s broken the bank?
“The issue is that I don’t see the receipt for buying the seed, Oscar. I’ve looked through everything a dozen times. I’m missing several other receipts as well.”
I stand behind her and look at the ledger. Her hair and skin are scented with roses and the warmth fills me. “What other entries are you looking at?”
She points to a column. “Here are several entries for items purchased for a Lady Day celebration.”
“I know it’s an old tradition that no one follows these days, but it’s been part of Kensfield for generations.” The amounts for food and drink do seem a bit high, but it all goes to the community.
“There are no receipts for any of those expenses.” She runs her fingers down another line. “And this list of people who were given Christmas hams, I don’t see the corresponding bill from the pig farmer or butcher.” She turns her neck to look up at me and that brings her lips so close, it’s maddening. “Will you call Hodgins?”
If I don’t step away, I’m going to kiss her in broad daylightwith the library doors wide open for anyone to see. I step back and pull the cord.
A minute later, Hodgins walks in. “My lord, how may I be of service?”
“Miss Wittman and I are wondering about the Christmas hams from last year. Who supplied them?” I have a knot in my gut.
For the first time in all the years I’ve known the butler, he looks shocked. Wide-eyed, his mouth opens and closes twice before he speaks. “The hams were canceled, my lord.”
My heart sinks. “By whom?”
He blinks back at me. “By you, my lord.”
It takes everything within me to keep my temper. If I think too hard about the families who went without a ham last holiday, I’ll show a side of myself that I do not like. “And the Lady Day celebration?”
Hodgins dark eyes grow even wider, and he shifts his weight from foot to foot. “It too was canceled. Sir, I received a letter from you on both occasions explaining that there were some cutbacks.” He looks from me to Ann, then back at me. Turning, he closes the library door and steps close to the desk. “From the expression on your faces, I’m guessing the letters were not from you. Does this have something to do with the departure of Mr. Bellston?”
