Page 39 of Wicked Rivals
Ashton nodded to Charles and Jonathan. “Why don’t you two head out? Rosalind is going to look over the new designs in my study, and then we shall join you.”
Rosalind shivered as they left, but not from fear. Pretending to be attracted to someone was entirely different when one actuallywasattracted to the person, even if she wished she wasn’t. Whenever she and Ashton were alone, things between them intensified, and she was worried about where things would lead if he continued to stare at her the way he was right now. As though he wished to take a bite out of her, then kiss her.
Chapter Ten
Lord, I can’t let him kiss me again. I seem to lose all good sense when I do.
Rosalind stepped back from Ashton and attempted to start a conversation.
“It is kind of you to let the tenants stay here.” She hadn’t told him that before, but she’d wanted to.
He stared at her intently. “I’m not a brute, Rosalind.” She had the impression he was attempting to convey something about how he intended to deal with her.
“Are you a mind reader as well?” She kept her tone light, doing her best to tease him back. Outside of her brothers, teasing remarks had always gotten her ears soundly boxed.
His lips twitched again. “A mind reader?”
Rosalind had the sudden desire to see him smile more fully. “Ashton, you are far too serious. Why don’t you smile more often?”
He curled an arm around her waist and guided her into a room on the right of the hall. She peered around curiously at the room, taking in walnut wood bookshelves brimming with everything from books containing folded maps of the world to lurid gothic novels.
“I might be smiling in a few minutes. Now, come take a look at the plans.” His hand dropped from her waist as he rifled through the stacks of paper covering his writing table. She looked back to the filled bookshelves. She adored reading. Her mother used to say that a person’s library revealed much of who they were.
She read the spines and paused, stifling a giggle. “Lady Mabel and the Brooding Baron?”
Ashton leaned over his desk and glanced up. The sun lit his pale-blond hair, burnishing the strands with gold. He looked angelic, but he certainly didn’t act like an angel. Or kiss like one, for that matter. As with all things, the man was more a sinner than a saint, she was quite sure.
“I blame Lucien. He’s been reading those stories by that awful L. R. Gloucester. I wouldn’t touch them, but Lucien wagered I couldn’t finish one. And then I admit I was rather sucked in. I am ashamed to admit I’ve devoured every book she’s written.”
“She?” Rosalind stared the initials on the book. “How do you know it’s a woman?”
Ashton came around the table and joined her at the shelf, pulling the volume out.
“Two things lead me to that conclusion. Using initials is a well-known way of hiding one’s gender, but more importantly, the phrasing and the characters are telling. They seem, well, far too accurate in depicting the feminine mind. No man could ever possess that much insight. It would surprise me very much if it weren’t a woman. Here, you must give it a try.”
He handed her the book, and she didn’t refuse it. If she was to remain here a week, she would enjoy something to read.
“Now, come see these plans.” He put an arm around her waist and tugged her closer to the writing table. “I had these drawn up a few months ago for additional houses on other parts of my estate. It was fortunate because these same designs should work for rebuilding Maple’s and Higgins’s houses.”
He spread out a set of drawings and weighed them down with glass paperweights that glinted in the sun. Rosalind stared at the drawings, assessing the number of rooms, the placement of them, and the way the house was constructed.
“Should the kitchens be a little larger? These are families and will need more space than you have allotted. A woman needs plenty of counters and cupboards in her kitchen. I’m not sure what you had intended for the other houses, but a house should engender itself to the creation of a family, which provides your lands with more hands to work once the children are older.”
He eyed the plans critically, and to her surprise he conceded. “You’re quite right. What else?”
For the next half hour, they discussed the houses at length, with Rosalind adding space to the rooms, explaining that the children would need enough room to separate the boys from the girls for privacy and the need for the addition of proper barns and a stable for domestic animals. When Ashton was satisfied with the changes, he wrote down some notes and summoned a footman to take the old plans back to his architect in London and have a new set drawn up with the changes.
As he escorted her out of the office, he was grinning like a lad. “See? I’m smiling.”
“Dare I ask why?” Nerves fluttered her belly, but she was excited too.
He gently tucked her arm in his and bent his head to whisper in her ear. “Because that is one of the two conversations in the last day where we have not quarreled. Imagine how it would be if we wereactuallymarried.”
She stopped short. “Why are you so interested in marrying me? You have control of everything of mine already.”
Ashton shook his head. “I admit that my initial interest was taking control of your property. But I’ve given it a great deal of thought. You have a keen mind. With our forces combined, we could own all of London. Think of it!”
She had, but she didn’t trust him. Once he had her property and her money, there would be nothing she could do to reclaim herself. With the stroke of a pen on a marriage license, he’d strip her of her security and her identity.
