Page 16 of Captivating the Countess
The house was an uproar of his sisters demanding to depart immediately and the older children clamoring for sleds. Rain caught one of the small ones by the back of his wool coat before he could plunge out the front door ahead of his harried nanny.
He lifted up his nephew until they were face to face. “Behave.”
The boy crinkled up his small nose. “Yes, sir.”
“Yes,my lord,” the nanny corrected in a whisper, taking the whelp once Rain lowered him to the ground again.
The child would only have to learn to sayyour gracein a few months or more, but Rain didn’t impart that depressing thought.
The strong foundation of education, training, and confidence he’d always relied on was developing unhealthy cracks he couldn’t reveal to his family. Rain was fairly certain he shouldn’t even notice the cracks, except he was a bloody sensitive Malcolm—a heritage a man of authority needed to overcome.
His newcountesssteward arrived from the back of the house, looking like a ray of sunshine despite her dreary habit. She brightened at sight of the children, then turned wary upon seeing him. Curtsying and catching a runaway toddler in the same motion, she turned the bundle of pink in the right direction, then vanished into the breakfast room where the staff left hot tea and cold comestibles for those who skipped breakfast or couldn’t wait for dinner.
Famished, Rain wanted to follow her, but he had to address the concerns of his sisters about the weather and the state of the roads and other mundane matters that reassured them that all was well. After the mob bustled out he escaped, only to find Lady Craigmore had quietly slipped away, back to her cubbyhole. He liked that about a woman, he told himself. He needed peace and silence.
He grabbed a plateful of meats, cheese, and bread and settled into his study to finish a paper while stillness reined, however briefly.
A column of figures in a neat hand awaited him, attached to a note in a simple copperplate script.All wages have been paid, along with the annual bonus, and the cash box is reconciled to the journal.
A mountain of tension melted away. He really hadn’t wanted to believe that his cousin might steal from him, but the fear had been there. He hoped Davis had enough savings to treat Araminta with respect until they were married.
He jotted a note to his bankers and another to Lady Rutledge to give to her husband when he returned. That was not correspondence he’d have anyone else handle.
He still had to apply himself to the task of finding a bride, sooner rather than later. Not an easy assignment if they were about to be snowed in. He consulted his list for ones who might live in York, which would at least be accessible by train, and grimaced at the familiar choices.
He’d rather find ways to keep his father alive.
Remembering he’d promised his new steward a key to the library, he checked his watch to see if he still had a little time, then strolled down to the library wing. His elderly librarian reluctantly surrendered one of his spare keys. The man had reason to fret over who had access to the immense chamber. Teddy had once managed to knock down an entire section of shelving, and Alicia had a tendency to leave books scattered all over the house, other people’s houses, and occasionally, the stable.
“Tell the countess she must sign out the books she takes,” the librarian insisted worriedly. “I’d rather they didn’t leave the room at all.”
“I’ll tell her. If we can trust Lady Craigmore to pay wages, I think we can trust her to return books.” He hoped. It wasn’t as if he knew a great deal about her, except that he’d met her at an Ives’ wedding and had found her odd and untouchable. And his Ives’ relation had married her twin, so presumably the family was respectable—except for the stepfather. The Earl of Ives and Wystan had taken care of that minor problem.
Rain carried the key back to the steward’s office, drawn by curiosity more than a need to deliver a key.
The lady sat with head bent over journals, a cup of tea steaming in the chilly air, and a heaping plate of sandwiches at her side. She didn’t seem to have an eating problem. A few glowing coals heated the grate but were no defense against the freezing weather leaving icicles on the windowpane. Rain tossed more coals on the fire, bringing her head up in startlement.
As he’d noticed on other occasions, the little color she possessed drained from her cheeks, and she swayed. The chair threatened to wheel backward, until she caught herself on the desk. As she composed herself, Rain observed old ledgers had been stacked under the desk to rest her feet on.
Then she took a deep breath that drew his gaze to delectable curves, and it was only her silence that brought his eyes back to her frown.
“Coal is expensive, my lord,” she reminded him.
“I own coal mines, my lady,” he drawled in mockery. “And if you catch pneumonia in this cave, I lack my father’s healing skills to aid your recovery. I don’t have time for you to be ill.”
She almost managed a smile. “I grew up in Inverness, my lord. I am seldom ill, certainly not from cold weather. Although I am considering asking for lined draperies for the window. It’s a lovely view but my back is to it, and the wind rattles the panes.”
“That’s a worthy expenditure that will reduce the immense waste of coal.” He knew she didn’t deserve his sarcasm, but he had to treat her like a man or she’d turn his head. “I’ll have the carpenter saw off the chair legs to a better height.”
“Only after you decide I will suit,” she countered with a hint of her own mockery. “Although eliminating the wheels might be simpler.”
Remembering why he was here, he set the key on the desk. “The librarian wants you to sign out any books you remove. He’d really rather you brought down your pillow and slept with them in the library instead of taking them out, but I vetoed that suggestion some years ago.”
She did smile then. “If you have a family of readers, that could have led to some interesting slumber parties.”
Rain shuddered. “No, thank you. My sisters rattle half the night as it is.” He nodded at her plate of sandwiches. “You are entitled to take time to eat. You needn’t work at your desk all day.”
“I’d rather work at my desk, thank you. I find numbers peaceful. If you knew how much I learn about you and your habits just by reading the numbers, you’d send me packing.”
