Page 37 of Impossible
Ada found the cook’s loyalty to the viscount endearing, if a little frustrating. She realized she’d been woolgathering once again while Warfield was staring at her. “Good evening, my lord. What a surprise to see you here at this hour. Can I be of help?”
His gaze flicked to the open ledger before her. “You’re still working?”
“Just finishing up. Give me one moment.” She wrote another two lines, then set her pen down. She’d draft the letter to Lucien later. “All done,” she said, turning in her chair to face him. She saw he had a book in his hand. “Is that another ledger for me?”
“Er, no. It’s a book. For me to read. I thought I might join you in your relaxation time this evening. That is what you called it?”
“Oh!” Ada shot out of her chair in shock and awe. He’d come to read with her? Had something happened last night to change his opinion of her? The kissing perhaps? Her gaze strayed to his very tantalizing mouth, which was a grave mistake because she could practically feel his lips on hers and the resulting pleasure that stirred in other, more private areas. “Yes, time to relax.” She wasn’t sure she could do that around him after last night. Did he even remember the kiss? She was fairly certain he’d been asleep. It was possible, if not likely, that even if he did recall it, he thought it was a dream.
“Will you mind if I read my romance novel?” she asked, wondering if she ought not tease him. Probably not, but it was too late now.
One of his golden brows arched, and she saw the rake he’d once been. “No. I will be reading about sheep.”
“Splendid.” She was encouraged by his choice of subject matter. Perhaps he meant to truly take a more active role at Stonehill. “Shall we sit together?” She was already moving toward the settee in the center of the library before realizing that was a rather forward invitation for a secretary who wasn’t really a secretary to make. But was it, when that secretary who wasn’t really a secretary had been in your bed the night before?
She really needed to stop thinking about that.
Her eye moved to a chair, and she wondered if she ought to sit there instead. Except she’d suggested they sit together and if she sat in a chair now, she’d look silly. Or stupid.
Ada dropped onto the settee and held her breath. He sat down at the other end. They weren’t really sittingtogether, but they were on the same piece of furniture. She realized he could be sitting across the room, and it wouldn’t matter. She was still intensely aware of his presence and of her growing desire for him.
No, she would not take that path again. She would not repeat the mistakes she’d made with Jonathan.
“I had a very productive day,” she said, pretending he wanted to know. “Archie is an excellent guide.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“Tomorrow, I’ll be visiting the village again to hire two kitchen maids, a housemaid in addition to Teresa, who is currently helping Mrs. Kempton and will hopefully come here after, another footman, and a pair of grooms. Mrs. Bundle was thrilled that you decided to expand the household.”
“She mentioned that when she brought my dinner. I can see it’s made her happy. I should have done it sooner.”
Ada didn’t want him to wallow. He was on the cusp of making true progress; she was certain of it. “It only matters that you’re doing it now.”
He grunted in response.
She wanted to ask why he hadn’t joined her for dinner again. She’d hoped he might, especially since he’d had breakfast with her. But she didn’t want to put pressure on him.
He opened his book, and she took the signal that he was ready to read, not talk. Ada found her place and began to read. Unfortunately, she wasn’t very successful at retaining anything on the page.
Casting him a sideways glance and seeing that hewasactually reading, she tried again. He was so distracting! Not just because she was now attracted to him. He was interesting. She wanted to ask him a million things. And unlike when she’d first arrived, he now occasionally answered her.
Was he remotely intrigued by her? Let alone attracted to her? She had no way of knowing, especially since their kiss was probably unknown to him. Should she tell him and see how he responded? No, she wasn’t going to poke that bear.
Turning so that she was angled slightly toward him, she cast surreptitious glances in his direction. His attention didn’t waver from the book, and he turned pages at regular intervals. Ada cast her head back and looked up at the domed ceiling. Though it was dark, she could make out the flowers in the stained glass.
She simply couldn’t contain herself. “I’ve been meaning to ask about the flowers in the ceiling. And the rooms with the flower names. Someone must have loved flowers.”
His gaze lifted from the book and fixed on her. She felt a rush of anticipation, which was ludicrous. He was only looking at her!
“My great-grandmother loved flowers,” he said, thankfully appeasing her interminable curiosity. “And books. She had this library built, and she named all the bedchambers after flowers.”
“What’s yours called?”
“Except mine. My great-grandfather refused to let her name the viscount’s suite.”
“What about your room when you were younger? Did it have a flower name?”
“In her time, it was the Lily Room, but my father wouldn’t let anyone call it that. Or my brother’s chamber, which was the Peony Room. Indeed, the only rooms that really have flower names anymore are yours—the Primrose Room—and the one that used to belong to my great-grandmother. That adjoins my chamber and is called the Rose Room. Those were her favorite flowers.”
