Page 6 of Impossible
“Thinking. You were doing it so loudly that I nearly covered my ears.”
A laugh tumbled from her. Wit was the last thing she’d expected.
His eyes flickered with surprise, as if he too were astonished by what he’d said. But no, he was reacting to her laughter, for now he was glowering at her once more. Ah well, it was nice while it lasted.
Pivoting, he stamped back to his study, and Ada feared she’d ruined everything. Only how could she ruin something that was already a mess?
Perhaps she ought to follow him, to persuade him that he needed her. Or at least remind him that he was stuck with her for the full fortnight since Lucien’s coach wouldn’t return to fetch her until then. And if Warfield truly didn’t have any livestock, she was most certainly stranded.
Stranded with a beast. This had all the makings of a gothic novel.
Just when she was about to stalk after him into his study, he reappeared, his arms laden with books as he moved across the library to a table near the windows. He dropped the stack of volumes onto the top and turned to face her.
Ada hurried to join him, pushing aside her shock that he’d actually fetched the bloody ledgers. “I hope these are the ledgers,” she said, voicing her next thought.
“The past five years.”
Back to before his father had died, when presumably things were in better order. But perhaps they hadn’t been. It was possible the beast had inherited a failing estate. Was that why he was this way? Had his father been a poor viscount and somehow driven his son to become this angry ogre? Ada shook her head. If she wasn’t careful, her overactive mind was going to write this gothic novel in her head before she puzzled out the truth.
She looked out the windows and gasped. What should have been stunning gardens were laid out but horribly overgrown. There were also a great many dead things. It was an abysmal sight. “What on earth is going on out there?”
“Never mind,” he growled. “Focus on your task.”
“The gardensaremy task. They are part of Stonehill.”
“They aren’t necessary to running a profitable estate. Isn’t that why you’re here?”
That was why Lucien had sent her, but that was no longer her only purpose. She had an investigation to conduct and a man to rehabilitate. “Yes, that is why I’m here,” she said evenly. “Yourfriend, Lord Lucien, wants to ensure Stonehill is profitable and that you can maintain it that way.”
His lip curled as his gaze moved to the windows. “I don’t care if it’s profitable. I’d be just fine letting it rot.”
She pursed her lips. “I’d say the garden is well on its way. Were you always this selfish? I’ve been led to believe you were once far more amiable.”
He turned his frigid gaze on her, but said nothing.
“I understand the war wounded you, changed you, but does everyone around you need to suffer because of that? What of your retainers? Your tenants?”
“Goddammit, woman!” he thundered, startling Ada. But she refused to flinch, even if she did feel a trifle frightened by his reaction. He leaned toward her, his features menacing. “You push too far.”
She imagined he was a fearful sight on the battlefield. It was no wonder he was a decorated war hero. Gentling her tone, she stood her ground and said, “What if I can find a steward to run the estate for you? Then you wouldn’t have to concern yourself with any of it.”
“I had a steward,” he clipped.
She knew that, of course, but not why he didn’t have one anymore. “What happened to him?”
“He left.”
She probably oughtn’t press him, but the investigation was afoot. “Why?”
Stony silence was his response.
“Did he find another position elsewhere?” She waited for him to answer, but he did not. “Did you stop paying him?” She held her breath, praying he would respond. Still nothing. It seemed goading was the only thing he reacted to—or could be guaranteed to react to. How she hated to poke at a wounded animal. In her sunniest tone, she offered, “Perhaps he simply found you impossible to work with.”
His nostrils flared, and he growled. At last, he spoke. “You have one week, not a fortnight. I’m not agreeing to anything beyond that. I would be grateful if you could complete your work even faster.” He stepped closer, towering over her with his height and bulk. “If you question me or speak to me in that manner again, I’ll toss you out, regardless of the time of day. Or the weather.”
Spinning about, he tramped back to his study and slammed the door.
Well. That hadn’t gonetoobadly. But if he thought he could get rid of her before the fortnight was through, he was quite mistaken. When she sent him her first note, she’d remind him that Lucien’s coach wouldn’t return to fetch her until then.
