Page 54 of The House Saphir
“I understand that even less.”
This time, he did laugh. “All right. No picnic. No boats.”
Mallory wrinkled her nose in fake apology. “Perhaps we can discuss my work another time.”
His smile faded. “Of course.”
She turned away and was nearly to the top of the stairs when Armand asked—even more tentative now—“Unless you would like to see the cemetery?”
Her hand clamped on the rail. She glanced back, side-eyeing him. “The cemetery?”
“It’s out in the forest. Overgrown. Damp. Admittedly not well tended to. A haven for small, terrifying creatures. Generally speaking, it’s a horrible place to spend any amount of time.” His eyebrows lifted. “Might that interest you, Miss Fontaine?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
They passed Julie on their way through the gardens. She was humming cheerfully to herself, but froze when she saw Mallory and Armand. She blinked at the two of them, startled, as if she’d been caught doing something much worse than gathering an armful of nearly spent blossoms.
“Armand!” she gasped, then grimaced and curtsied. “I mean… Lord Armand, that is.”
He nodded politely, showing no offense at her slip.
“I believe Yvette wanted you,” said Mallory. “Something about rugs.”
“O-oh.” Julie was having a difficult time pulling her gaze from Armand. “Yes. I’ll… be right there.”
“Thank you, Julie,” said Armand. “When you’re finished, would you remind Yvette about those pieces stored away in the attic?”
Her forehead creased. “Attic?”
“The artwork.”
Her mouth parted. She looked at Mallory, who could not understand why Julie suddenly looked so upset. “But where are you two going?”
Armand drew back, surprised.
Immediately realizing the impudence of such a question, Julie lowered her gaze. Then, with a huff, she dropped her armful of flowers right into the middle of the pathway. “I mean—certainly. Whatever you need.My lord.”
She stormed past them, fingers strangling her apron as she went.
They watched her go, bewildered.
“I cannot decipher half the things that girl says,” said Armand. “It’s like she speaks another language entirely and gets frustrated when no one has any idea what she’s saying.”
“Don’t be dense,” said Mallory. “She obviously likes you.”
“I should hope so. I try to be a good employer. Yvette would say I’m too—”
“Not like that,” said Mallory as they continued down the path again.
It took Armand another beat before horror eclipsed his expression. “I—well. If that is the case, then it is not mutual.” He frowned deeply. “I hope she hasn’t misinterpreted my actions for… interest. I would feel awful.”
Mallory could easily see how a girl could be swept away by Armand’s simple kindnesses, but she didn’t want to make him feel worse than he evidently already did. “I’m sure it’s only a passing fancy.”
Though the gardens had once consisted of many acres ofhedgerows, boxwoods, and tidy plant beds, it did not take long for them to reach the portion of the property that had been taken over with wild seedlings, scraggly trees, and a proliferation of weeds. Most of the estate was surrounded by vineyards, but the gardens to the north eventually gave way to a forest—what had once been the Saphir family’s personal hunting grounds.
She supposed it was still, technically, Armand’s personal hunting grounds, but when she asked about it, he appeared revolted. “My father enjoyed the sport, but I never developed a taste for it.” He paused suddenly. “But look!”
He pointed at a fallen log and Mallory hoped to see one of those small, terrifying creatures he’d promised her, but instead she saw… nothing, actually. Just a log.
