Page 7 of The Duke's Christmas Scandal
They had that much in common.
What else might he discover about his unexpected guest, if he kept his secret a bit longer?
“Do you and your husband live near here?” he asked.
“Define ‘near’.”
Ian would definenearas the way she was standing a little too close to him, toying with the rope like she was about to open it and show him her perfectly adequate accomplishments.
He wished she was touching him with the same reverence she handled that sailcloth bag, like the most precious thing in the world.
“In the general vicinity of Beamly,” she said, naming what Ian presumed was a village. He had yet to become familiar with the area, beyond riding through towns on his way here.
Tavi tipped her auburn head, considering. Her hair caught the light like living fire. Ian had to tamp down the impulse to run his fingers through it. To pull her to him and taste her lips…
But that would cause all kinds of problems.
“About ten miles from here. I’ve heard of an old castle that once belonged to the Duke of Susskind, but the line died out. I never expected to set foot inside. Fellsgrove, I think it was called.” She looked about the dark room. “That’s what this place is, isn’t it? The old duke’s country seat?”
“Indeed, you are correct, Mrs. Dawson.”
“It’s been abandoned for a hundred years,” she said wistfully. “Imagine, letting such a grand property as this fall into disrepair. Some say it had so many windows that the tax burden exceeded the rents, so he pulled the roof off.”
The truth was more mundane than the story local residents had concocted: poor management of finances and disinterest in maintaining the property had led the last duke to abandon it in favor of more comfortable and cosmopolitan lodgings.
“In fact, I’ve never heard of there being a caretaker.” Tavi shot him a wary glare. “You don’t seem old. Or terribly established.”
Ian chuckled. “I am a recent arrival.” Taking a rusted pan, he nudged the glowing embers into it and gestured to the lantern. “If you don’t mind carrying that, I’ll show you upstairs to the sleeping chamber.”
His guest stiffened. Her chin dipped. There was nowhere to sleep on this level, and not enough firewood to keep the room warm, either.
“This way,” he said, leading her into a dark passageway.
As if this situation could get any more awkward…
CHAPTER4
OCTAVIA
Tavi eyed the small chamber warily. Specifically, the bed.
Part of her longed to climb beneath that cozy-looking down coverlet. Her feet had re-frozen during the brief climb up the dark stairwell. But it wasn’t hers to claim.
“It’s only for one night.” She sighed. A white cloud billowed into the air.
“Unless this keeps up.”
To emphasize Mr. Harkness’ point, the wind howled outside the boarded-up windows. The old-fashioned four-poster had been pushed near the hearth, where the caretaker knelt to build a fire from the remnants of the one downstairs, tossing logs onto the grate to make a crackling blaze.
They both studiously ignored the bed. It didn’t look large enough for two people. She would have to sleep practically on top of him. Or he on top of her. If they were to share it.
Oh, dear. Where was her imagination going?
Tavi had learned the hard way never to trust handsome, charming men.
She liked Mr. Harkness. Too much. She barely knew him.
It had been years since she’d been young and foolish enough to let a man touch her, a decision that resulted in such shame that she’d sworn never to give into temptation again.
