Page 53 of Impossible
“It’s probably for the best, or you wouldn’t have finished your work. Now you are unencumbered.”
She narrowed her eyes playfully. “I can focus entirely on you for the remainder of the night.”
“You should also sleep.”
Pulling his head back down to hers, she murmured, “We can sleep when we’re dead.”
There was no way she was wasting a moment of their last night together.
Chapter11
Ada had only been gone half a day, and it was as if there was no light at all. Though she’d often sat working quietly next door in the library, the house seemed eerily silent. He didn’t like it, which made no sense. This was how it had been before her unwanted visit, and he’d enjoyed the silence. He’d hated that she’d come to Stonehill.
Until he didn’t.
He frowned at his desk and the neat stack of ledgers she’d left. He’d grown used to her energy and persistence, the very things he’d found so annoying at the start. Now he was annoyed that she was gone. There was, apparently, no pleasing him.
Except he’d been plenty pleased last night. Or pleasured, anyhow.
He’d never expected she’d invite him to her bed. He’d planned to say goodbye, to tell her he hoped she would visit again sometime. Instead, they’d spent the night learning each other’s bodies until he’d crept back to his room just before dawn. Then he’d slept like the dead, completely missing her departure.
She likely thought him a beast. Wasn’t he? She may have prompted him to change somewhat, but he was still the same monster who’d returned from Spain.
Mrs. Bundle pushed open his door, which had been ajar. “Mrs. Tallent is here. Do you want to receive her here or elsewhere?”
He’d completely forgotten he was meeting with his new steward today. Ada had left a note about it on his desk, which he’d found earlier. “Here is fine.”
“You sound aggravated,” Mrs. Bundle said, her eyes narrowing. “Do not drive Mrs. Tallent away.”
He glowered at her. “Don’t pester me.”
“Here I hoped your gentler nature would remain,” she murmured as she left.
Max sat up straighter behind his desk. What on earth was he going to discuss with the woman?
A few moments later, Mrs. Tallent entered. She’d removed her hat so he could fully see her dark hair pinned neatly atop her head. Her green eyes assessed him, and her hands were clasped before her. She appeared nervous.
“Good afternoon, my lord.”
“Please sit.”
She perched on a chair near his desk—the small one Ada sat in on the few occasions she’d come to his study.
They stared at each other, both expectant, and Max wondered if she knew what they were supposed to discuss. “These are the ledgers Miss Treadway organized and brought up to date.” He indicated the stack on the corner of the desk.
Mrs. Tallent edged forward on the chair. “Excellent. Should I just take them?”
“I suppose.”
Silence stole over them again, and this time, she broke it. “Do I need to find a tenant for my farm?”
“Isn’t that what a steward does?”
“I believe so.”
He clasped his hands atop the desk. “Perhaps you should visit with Sir George’s steward for guidance.” Sir George was Max’s neighbor to the north.
She pursed her lips. “I will do that. And what of my family’s living arrangements?”
