Page 37 of The Viscount in her Bedroom
“I don’t need tolookat you. I still feel you, taste you. This is…a special awareness between a man and a woman.”
She moaned, and the sound only drove his need higher.
“Oh, Simon, what have I done? I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“Do you truly regret it?” he asked, hoping he would know the truth when he heard it.
“I—” She sighed. “God help me, I don’t. I’ve never felt that way before. But I promise that it won’t happen again.”
He didn’t know if he believed her.
Before he could say anything, they were interrupted by his steward, Oscar Edgeworth, who ushered in the two tenants who’d been fighting over the proceeds of a shared orchard.
How the hell was he supposed to concentrate when Louisa Shelby smelled so good?
Louisa rose to her feet as the three gentlemen entered the study. Instead of feeling nervous and wondering how she could help Simon, she was far too interested in watching him. Before his accident, his reputation had named him charming and carefree; then she’d seen firsthand his kindness and compassion when he’d helped her sister Victoria find her place in Society. But now she knew him better, saw the depth of emotions he hid to keep his family from worrying. But what kind of businessman was he?
She had already met Mr. Edgeworth, the steward of the estate, a tall man with a brisk, efficient manner.
“Miss Shelby,” he said, giving her a brief bow.
“Miss Shelby will be taking my sister’s place assisting me today, Edgeworth,” Simon said from behind his desk.
Mr. Edgeworth nodded. “Of course, my lord. Miss Shelby, allow me to introduce Mr. Harrison and Mr. Plum, two of Lord Wade’s tenants.”
Both men bowed to her, and she curtsied. Mr. Harrison, sporting a gray mustache and bushy sideburns, frowned at her but was polite. Mr. Plum, florid of complexion, was as round as his name suggested. Both were well dressed for farmers.
Simon sat back in his chair. “To begin, let us summarize the situation, gentlemen. You have been arguing over who has the rights to an orchard that straddles the property line between your farms. Tell me again why you cannot divide the proceeds evenly.”
Mr. Harrison gave an exaggerated sigh. “Lord Wade, dividing the profit doesn’t work. My men do a larger amount of work throughout the year, so how is that fair?”
“That is not true!” Mr. Plum’s face grew even redder. “I cannot help it if you have your workers there at dawn. Mine have cows to milk before they can see to the orchard.”
“I have my workers milking cowsbeforedawn. I can’t help it if your son does not oversee your farm properly.”
“Son?” Simon interjected. “What does Mr. Plum’s son have to do with your argument?”
Both farmers glared at each other and said nothing.
“There is more anger here than is necessary for a simple property dispute,” Simon said.
“It’s not so simple,” Mr. Harrison said, sitting forward on the edge of his chair. “We are talkin’ about a lot of money!”
Louisa realized that in his anger, his accent was beginning to coarsen.
“Of course it’s over money,” Mr. Plum said. “If my son weren’t being distracted—”
Mr. Harrison rose swiftly to his feet. “Distracted! And who would you be accusin’ of that!”
Mr. Plum pushed himself up out of his chair to meet the other man’s glare.
“Gentlemen, please,” Simon said in a soft, firm voice. “It seems to me that there is more here than a dispute over an orchard. What else comes between you?”
They said nothing; one stared at the floor, the other stared out the window. Louisa saw guilt in both men, and a stubbornness that resisted compromise.
Simon folded his hands on his desk. “You have spent years as amicable neighbors; something had to have happened recently. Something to do with young Tom Plum? Is he bothering you, Mr. Harrison?”
Louisa was surprised that Simon knew the boy’s name.
