Page 31 of The Lyon Whisperer
“What shall you do to entertain yourself today?”
She shrugged and lowered her eyes to study her plate. “Sally is due to arrive today with the rest of my things. I assume I shall be occupied with unpacking.”
“Very good. If you need any assistance from the staff—”
“We shall manage. Will you be very late in returning?”
He frowned.
She replayed her last words. She had finished on a hopeful note.
She sent him her most brilliant, off-putting smile. “That is, will you return in time for supper?”
He gave her a long look. “I expect I will. Would you like that?” His gaze dropped briefly to her mouth and her stomach did a neat somersault.
“Yes,” she answered, breathless, and much too quickly.
His dark eyes gleamed—with satisfaction, if she read him correctly.
Moments later, he bid her good day.
She watched him leave, the sound of his words from last night echoing in her head.When we make love, it will be at your behest.
The more she pondered his assertion, and she had spent a good deal of last night doing just that, the more she decided the so-called Iron Lion had developed a severe case of wishful thinking. As if she would ever do such a thing.
But what would it be like if he could actually make her want to ask him to make love to her?
She shivered, even as everything in her went hot, and stared, unseeing, at the buffet.
“Madam?…”
She half jumped. She hadn’t noticed the footman—Howard was his name—entering the breakfast hall.
“…is there aught amiss? Were the eggs not to your liking?”
She resisted the urge to fan her pulsing cheeks. “Oh, hello, Howard, no, indeed, I was simply…” She searched her mind. “Wondering if I could find someone to take me about the property. Specifically, I’d like to visit the stables, and—is that a coach house or storage building for garden implements to the west of the manse?”
“Of course, milady. I would be delighted to show you whatever you like.” He frowned slightly. “The building you mentioned does indeed store his lordship’s traveling coach as well as the gardener’s tools and an assortment of tables and chairs. It’s hardly worth visiting. Do you have some things you’d like for me to place there? I’m happy to see to it.”
“Ah…no. I wanted to get an idea of the available space. I may have some things to place inside, and, in the event my father comes for an extended stay, he tends to travel with his…” She stared at the footman, her mind drawing a blank.
She had no idea what her father might bring, nor did she anticipate him coming to stay with her.
Howard waited, a polite, expectant expression on his face. Finally, he gave her a sympathetic smile. “His hunting rifles and such? Many a lord visits Warren House to engage in the hunt.”
“Yes, precisely. I also need to send word to my father’s house in London for the rest of my things to be delivered as soon as possible.”
With luck, Sally would arrive by midafternoon, well before her husband’s return.
Chase set hisfork and knife across his nearly empty plate and slanted his beautiful, enigmatic wife a look.
Oblivious to his study, she sliced off a bite of glazed carrot and forked it into her mouth.
He’d arrived home less than an hour ago, missing cocktail hour, but in plenty of time to share the evening meal with her.
She had seemed pleased to see him when he’d joined her in the parlor, but he could not decide if she merely acted. She seemed adept at shielding her thoughts from him when she set her mind to it. Not a lot of women he knew had the skill.
His mother had it in spades—if he remembered correctly. He had not seen her for nearly two decades.
