Temptation Has Green Eyes (23 page)

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Authors: Lynne Connolly

Tags: #Jacobite, #Historical, #romance

BOOK: Temptation Has Green Eyes
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There, Lansbury the steward waited for them. He was dressed in neat, practical clothing. A pair of gold framed spectacles adorned his face, behind which a pair of blue eyes sparkled. Sophia held her judgment in reserve. She was far too suspicious, from her Dealings in the city.

The man bowed low. “It gives me great pleasure to welcome you to this house, my lady,” he said, with all the unctuousness a marchioness could wish for.

Sophia certainly didn’t appreciate that, but perhaps the last marchioness preferred it. He would have to work out how to deal with her. However he might have done his research. The news of her marriage was public knowledge after all and not difficult to research, even on the road.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Lansbury.”

He glanced to Max, who indicated the rent table. The piece of furniture dominated the room, a large round table with small drawers set around it. She bent to study one of the labels pasted there. “A to D,” it said.

“Tenants,” Max explained. “When they come to pay the rent on quarter day, their records are kept in these drawers.”

“How many tenants do you have?”

“We,” he corrected gently and glanced at Lansbury.

“At the last count, my lady, two hundred and sixty three on this estate.”

“A good number.” It seemed a reasonable number for the main property. Not just farmers, but perhaps villagers, too.

“A trifle low, if anything,” Max said. “But we have other concerns.”

He touched her elbow, and she forced herself not to sink back into his arms. This touching was exquisite torment in the early days of their relationship when they needed to learn each other. They’d risen too soon, but they had their duties, the reason for their marriage. She could never ignore those.

They all took a seat at the table, Max and Sophia remaining close.

She watched Lansbury closely when Max explained their plans. At the first mention of the word “demolition,” the poor wretch closed his eyes and shuddered. Interesting that he didn’t try to hide his reaction from the man who had jurisdiction over him.

Max had informed her that Lansbury had inherited this position from his father, who’d held it before him. That happened not infrequently, and perhaps he was as dynastically minded as Max’s family. Even in her natural home, the City of London, families hoarded rights and privileges jealously to pass down to their descendants. So why not a land steward, an important position in any great family? He would have his own assistants and discuss possibilities with his master, instead of simply taking orders.

Lansbury’s mouth twitched as if he were in pain at a couple of points, and half way through, he opened his eyes and fixed Max with a hard stare. The twinkle had gone.

When Max finished, Lansbury paused, and then said, in a perfectly modulated voice, “Do you think that’s wise, my lord?”

“Yes.” Typical of Max to answer the question and no more.

“Who gave you this idea, pray?”

By the way he carefully avoided looking at her, Sophia knew what he was thinking. And he’d be right. The notion had come from her.

Max glanced at her, smiling fondly. “My wife merely began the idea. It is what I want, what I’ve always wanted.” He lost the smile when he returned his attention to his steward. “See to it, please. I want an inventory drawn up as quickly as possible, and the plans pushed forward by the end of next month. By then, we’ll have a schedule for the work. By the end of the year, the project should be well underway.” He gave Lansbury a hard stare. “No procrastination. If anyone demonstrates that, get rid of him and find someone who will do the work.” His intentions were perfectly clear. If Lansbury didn’t want to do it, he would find someone who would.

Lansbury’s prominent Adam’s apple moved in his throat as he swallowed. “Yes, my lord. I cannot help thinking that we should let the notion mature for a while.” Then he glanced at Sophia, but only briefly. He flicked his attention back to Max as if she meant nothing at all. “You have plenty of concerns.”

Sophia considered his suggestion and read what he was saying underneath the words. “I’m sure we’ll cope.”

“I was thinking we could use Denton while the work here progresses,” Max said, naming another of his estates. “Or just stay in London.”

So he’d thought of it, too. If she fell pregnant, it wouldn’t be wise for her to be around a large demolition project. He had a house picked out for her. But if she agreed to that, she might well be left out of future plans.

“Is Denton nearby?”

“Tolerably,” Max said. “It’s not a large or showy place, but it’s comfortable and ample.”

That sounded like a house she’d like, but Sophia knew where her duties lay. She had to be a marchioness, not a country lady. Which meant this house. Without the wings, it would still be much larger than anything else she’d known.

But she’d fight that battle when it arrived.

“Have the inventory ready by the end of next week,” Max said calmly.

When Lansbury gasped and began to protest, Max interrupted him. “There is such an inventory. It merely needs bringing up to date. Checking. Ensure everything is listed in room order and in order of contents, please.”

“My lord, you have lived in London for a long time. You have rarely visited this place. It would help if you allowed yourself some time to accustom yourself to the plan.”

Max leaned an elbow on the table and smiled beatifically. Sophia had seen him do that, when he’d just struck a deal that he wanted. She wouldn’t trust that expression if she were Lansbury.

“One of the reasons I live in London is because I can’t afford this house. Or I couldn’t when I started to recover the money my father frittered on this place. I have no intention of passing this burden on to my own children, so now is the time to do it. When Sophia suggested it, I realized it was exactly what I wanted. So do not try to make me accept the house as it is.”

“My lord, I drew up plans for the completion of the unfinished rooms in the east wing.”

“Very diligent of you, Lansbury. File them away. We won’t need them now.”

Sophia would have felt sorry for the steward, but for the fulminating glance he threw Max’s way when he thought his master wasn’t looking. She guessed what Lansbury planned. He would contact the dowager, and then war would be declared. She could foresee unpleasant times ahead, but as long as she and Max remained determined, then they would see it through.

Sunshine streamed through the window onto the rent table, illuminating the conversation between the men. So polite, with so many tense undertones.

With no more to be said, Max courteously helped Sophia to her feet, and they left the office to the man who would reluctantly supervise the project.

“Perhaps you should employ someone solely to oversee the work,” she said.

Max snorted. “And antagonize him further? I think not. He must do it or resign. There is no shortage of good land stewards. If the work doesn’t suit him, he can find another place. Which he will do without much difficulty, as he has a good record.”

Heedless of who might see them, he spun her toward him and kissed her. “With you, I can see this through. When you said it, I realized it was exactly what I wanted. And I won’t allow you to shoulder the blame, either. It is our idea and our project. Part way through, we’ll mention that we’ll need the grounds re-done and let him look around for a good designer. Perhaps restore the park to the way it was, or instigate something new.”

“Won’t that be expensive?”

He kissed her again. “But less than the building. More to my taste, too. I’d prefer to look out of my window and see acres of green lawns and flower gardens. Perhaps a fountain or two.”

His heated smile melted her.

“But for now, I think we’ve done all we can. What would you like to do? By the way, that gown…very becoming.”

He wouldn’t have noticed it a short time ago. Now she could return his smile with interest and move closer, teasing him with glimpses of her cleavage. “We never finished that tour.”

“So we didn’t.” He grimaced, and then brightened. “If we do that, we could work up an appetite for all kinds of things. What do you think?”

“And the bride visits?” She added an innocent smile. “Your neighbors will expect a dinner, won’t they? Once they hear you’re in residence, they’ll want to visit us.”

“How will I bear it?” His voice softened, grew more intimate. “I will sit next to you and whisper naughty things in your ear while they think I’m asking you if you want more tea. How much will you bear of that before you make your excuses?”

The thought heated her blood. The nature of the wickedness appealed to her far beyond anything she thought possible, especially with him.

He moved away and offered the support of his arm. “Are you ready for your tour, my lady?”

Now wishing she’d never mentioned it, but also anticipating the tour with more than an expectation of seeing more rooms, she laid her hand on his arm. They went upstairs.

The butler met them in the main hall. “My lord, you have a visitor.”

Max exchanged a smiling glance with Sophia. “Bride visits?”

“No, my lord, although several people have called since you arrived. I gave them the information that your lordship was unavailable.” He coughed behind his hand. “This visitor has arrived from London, or so he tells me, and he is most insistent that he sees you. Lord Winterton, my lord. He has been here but an hour.”

This time Max’s glance showed alarm. “Julius? He wouldn’t have disturbed us unless he considered it necessary. What on earth could it be?”

“Was it just his lordship Lord Winterton wanted to see?”

Max clamped his arm to his side, trapping her hand. “Whoever he asked for, he’s getting both of us. I wonder why he didn’t send a message?”

The news worried her, but it might be nothing. “He could have business in the area.”

Max’s arm relaxed. “You could have the right of it. He does have a small property not far distant. Let’s find out.”

The butler had left Julius to wait in the Blue Parlor and sent to the kitchens for refreshments. So when they entered the room, a maid carrying a tray of small delicacies accompanied them.

Max pulled her back, spun her into his arms, and delivered a quick but passionate kiss. “Since I will have to wait, I need sustenance until I can get you back into bed.”

They made their way into the room when Julius waited for them.

Julius wore the kind of country coat that only a London tailor could make in a rich dark brown that enhanced his fair good looks. Elegant as always, he regarded them unsmilingly. Then he got to his feet and bowed. “It’s good to see you looking so well,” he said.

His attention went from one to the other of them. Sophia didn’t know what he saw, but he would see her a whole lot more relaxed than she had been a few days before. Whoever would have thought she would have been relaxed in a palace?

Max’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing until the maid had arranged the refreshments to her satisfaction and left the room. Sophia busied herself pouring the tea while the two men exchanged small talk about conditions on the road, politics, and anything else that didn’t concern them personally. Tension increased. By the excess of cordiality exchanged, Sophia knew that Julius did not plan to discuss anything trivial.

She took her seat and her part in the conversation. “Did you find yourself in the area, or is there a purpose to this visit?” she said. “Not that you’re not always welcome here you understand. Just that you’re worrying me.”

For the first time, a smile spread over Julius’s features, slow and appreciative. “I do like that. A woman who isn’t afraid of speaking her mind.”

“You must know many such women.” She wasn’t the only woman in London with a forthright temperament. “I have no patience with dancing around a subject when it’s an important one.”

“You are percipient, ma’am.”

They were seated too far apart to touch, but Max’s glance was a visual caress, and she smiled back.

“You’re a woman of decided character. I always thought so, although I didn’t know everything about you. I still don’t.”

When they turned their attention back to Julius, his eyebrows were raised.

“Interesting, I do wish you well. But the news I have may have implications none of us want to deal with.” He paused. “Are we at any risk of being overheard?”

Max shook his head. “The maid who served us is one of the family who has been with us the Devereaux for generations. If word gets out, she knows, as do the others, that I will dismiss every one of them.”

“Fair enough. And I will also take steps if what I say here is heard anywhere else.”

But what was so important that it merited this level of discretion? Sophia took a quick breath and lowered her gaze.
Not that, please not that
.

And why the hell hadn’t she told Max before now? Sophia braced herself ready for when the sky fell on her head.

“This news isn’t easy. I verified it before I came and the proof is available should you require it,” Julius said. “I brought copies with me. I made the copies myself and I have the originals locked up at home.”

“Did you stumble on this…evidence?” she asked, unable to wait until her fate was upon her. She needed the answer now.

He gave her a hard glance, his eyes chips of pure sapphire, and about as expressive. “No. I went looking. I need to protect my friends and my family. Why? Do you know what I’m about to say?”

She shook her head. What if he were to tell something else? But perhaps she could claim some restoration by relating some of the news herself. Was it too late? Panic rose to choke her. “It’s something my father said,” she said, blurting out the information before she could out-guess herself. “I didn’t know what to think, or what to say. I wanted to research it, but I didn’t have time.”

Julius leaned back and crossed his legs, resting his cheek on one outstretched finger, his elbow on the arm rest of the elegant, brocaded chair. “Go on.”

Yes, it was that. Sophia longed to reach for Max but she dared not. Afraid to even look at him. “I met…someone in the park, who gave me some news.”

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