Page 40 of To Treasure an Heiress
The two young ladies jumped and spun, making room as Lord Sheridan, still bruised and puffy, stepped into the kitchen. He looked Tommie straight in the eye. “Anyone whose employ is terminated over this will have a position at Sheridan Castle. Or regardless, if they just want to leave. And I’ll offer protection to anyone if there are charges. Well, I mean...” He grinned, though it looked as if the action hurt, and waved a hand. “Don’t anyone go maiming or stealing or murdering willy-nilly. But you know.”
It was good enough for Tommie. “I’ll wire Dandy straightaway.”
Senara exchanged a bare smile with Beth. Her young friend may still have an argument with his lordship over her mother’s trinket box. But he clearly wasn’t as bad as she’d been ready to believe.
11
30 JULY1906
Sheridan might not have been as chock-full of virtues as some—Ainsley—would hope, but patience he had in abundance. And over the last two weeks, he’d had plenty of chances to put it to use.
While the others expressed frustration in the fact that Scofield had vanished again, Sheridan had used the time to send scads of notes to mutual acquaintances, and replies had begun trickling in. Their group here had gone out on multiple expeditions to Gugh, trying to determine what had drawnhimthere, but Sheridan wasn’t put off by the lack of ready answers. He was well accustomed to spending weeks or months at an excavation, removing the earth layer by careful layer in search of whatever could be found.
Discovery would not be rushed. And moved on no one’s schedule.
Besides, all this uneventful time gave the post a chance to bring a reply from Briggs’s friends too.
And for Sheridan’s bruises to fade a bit.
All well and good until the rain began nearly a week ago and hadn’t let up. He had no particular problem with rain—either in working in it or in cozying up with a book by the fire instead. But Telford had been pacing the library like a caged tiger for the last three days,grousing about the minuscule size of the house again. Ainsley and Collins were heard bickering over whose turn it was to slosh along the street in search of a newspaper, and even Tremayne, who Sheridan had yet to see in anything but a pleasant mood, had grown sullen.
That one he could explain easily enough—the rain had kept Libby from making the sail from St. Mary’s, and apparently five days without his lady love were not to be borne.
Beth sank down beside Sheridan on the sofa. Actually beside him. Of her own free will. And not at the other end either but on the space directly beside his. With a delightful little smirk on her face.
He’d only make her beg for four more months. He’d tell Tremayne to book the church. A Christmas wedding should do.
She even leaned closer to his side, her glance flicking between her sulking brother and irritably-pacing Telford. “I know what Ollie’s problem is—but I can’t think Telford misses his sister so keenly. You’d think neither of them has lived in England more than a month the way they’re reacting to a little rain.”
Sheridan chuckled and turned a page in his book on the Druid sites identified in the Lake District. It was sorely incomplete and had some of the most ridiculous theories espoused in it. “Telly is very much like Abbie’s pug. All posturing and ferocity until the first splash of rain on his nose, then back inside he runs. Might muss his hair, you know.”
The smirk turned fully to him. “Telly or the pug?”
“Yes.” He tried to read the next paragraph—some absurd theory about the circle of standing stones at Castlerigg that made him question whether the author had ever evenbeenthere—but gave up after a moment. She was near enough that he could smell the scent of her soap. And her hair looked as soft as silk. And when she snorted a laugh at his joke, her eyes positively danced with the very light of heaven.
“What are you reading today?” She tilted the book up to answer her own question. Which meant her fingers were mere fractions of an inch from his.
He wouldn’t even make her beg. She had only to drop to a knee and he’d agree to marry her.
She gave him a dubious look. “Weren’t you reading a different book on Druid ruins yesterday?”
“Finished it. This one’s rubbish, though. Better suited for tinder than reading material. Well, I mean—not that I’d ever do such a thing. One of the seven deadly sins, I’m all but certain. Have to ask Ainsley.”
She smiled and leaned against the back of the sofa, making herself comfortable. Aroundhim. That counted as a proposal, right? “Where did you even come by it? I don’t recall that one being in our library.”
“No, the Tremaynes have better taste in books than this.” He closed it—though over his finger. There could yet be a nugget of insight worth considering, buried somewhere under all the rubbish. “I brought it with me. Trying to read all the existing texts about the liths and cairns in the Lake District. Research, you know. To pair with my own excavations.”
“He intends to set the record straight and expostulate on his theories about Bronze Age monuments and burial sites in a book of his own.” Telford dropped to a seat in the same leather chair he always chose and scowled at Oliver. “You should have a dog. What kind of English family doesn’t have a dog?”
Tremayne didn’t even look up from his own book. “I’m certain Darling would love that.”
“My sister and her cat weren’t part of your life until June. What was your excuse before then?”
Sheridan took a calculated risk and leaned a few inches closer to Beth. “He’s a pug. I told you. Now he’s nipping at others’ tails.”
She laughed. Her brother said something about a childhood wolfhound. Hardly mattered what. Beth had laughed again and still had her face turned his way. “Have you started the writing yet? Of your historical text?”
No lady in all his days had ever asked him about his research.Even his sisters. Who rather made it a point to change the subject each and every time he brought it up. Which meant there were a lot of subject changes in the castle.
