The Secrets Of Lord Lynford. Bronwyn Scott

The Secrets Of Lord Lynford - Bronwyn Scott


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newly awakened wildness in her was disappointed to see Falmage Hill come into view, disappointed to turn into the drive, disappointed to slow the horse to a trot, the wind settling to a light, arbitrary breeze in her face. Eaton turned the horse down a path, giving her a tour of the drive lined by tall, impressive oaks with a green lawn extending in all directions. ‘The main house is straight ahead, but the dower house sits on the west corner of the property. It has a nice view of the sea.’ She couldn’t care less for the sea view at the moment. She was transfixed on the lawn. Sophie would love running here. There was precious little space for a girl to run in town. A twinge of guilt pricked at Eliza. Courtesy dictated she should tell him she wouldn’t be his only guest. But privacy counselled caution. She was protective of Sophie and those who came into contact with her. A woman or a girl with a fortune couldn’t be too careful.

      The entrance to the dower house was dominated by two thick stone pillars and a wrought iron gate that stood open, ready for them. The house itself was a square, brick manse with ivy growing up its walls and five white-framed windows decorating the second storey. The entrance was set on the right side of the house and covered with an arched arcade. Eliza found the home immediately charming, a place where a family might take a holiday. Where children might frolic in the yard with a puppy. She pushed the sweet image away. There was no purpose in torturing herself with what she couldn’t have. Besides, she never took a holiday. She was too afraid of what might transpire if she looked away from the mines for a moment. Apparently, it hadn’t mattered. Things had transpired anyway.

      Out of nowhere, a man in livery materialised to hold the horse. Lynford dismounted and reached for her, his hands easy and comfortable at her waist. Was she the only one who noticed how much they touched? Was she the only one moved by it? The only one whose pulse thundered with each contact? One would think she was fresh from the schoolroom, not a woman who’d had a husband and a child and who dealt with men every day. There should be no mystique in a man’s touch. She was helped in and out of carriages, escorted into dinners on the occasions when she went out in Truro. Touch was no stranger to her, yet Lynford’s touch managed to stand out.

      Eaton set her down and gestured towards the house. ‘Shall we go in? I sent word ahead to the staff to start cleaning once I received your note. The worst of the dust should be gone by now.’ He slid her teasing look. ‘I know how you are about dust.’

      ‘You’re very...efficient.’ And confident, she added silently. He’d been sure she’d accept his offer...and he’d been right. Was she that predictable or was he that sure of himself?

      Eaton ushered her through the front door, a hand resting at the small of her back. Another touch. Another reminder that he stirred her. ‘There’s a parlour, a dining room and a library space you can use as an office here on the first floor. The kitchen is below stairs. The bedrooms are upstairs. I will send down staff for cooking and cleaning. I have plenty to spare with only me to look after at the big house.’

      He’d anticipated everything, Eliza thought as they climbed the stairs. ‘There are five chambers up here and seven beds.’ Eaton led her down the hall. ‘You can have your pick, perhaps a bed for every night of the week.’ He laughed, coming to stop at a room nearest the stairwell. ‘This one is the largest.’

      Eliza stepped into the airy room, impressed. Eaton’s staff had already been here. The bed linens were fresh and the window was open to let in the crisp autumn air. A small bud vase with deep pink ginger lilies stood on the table beside the bed, lending the room a personal touch, an extra detail. She was aware of Eaton behind her, his words a quiet, masculine rumble. ‘Will it suit?’ At the enquiry, her eyes began to sting, tears welling. She was glad she was facing the window. How would she explain that a simple question had moved her to tears?

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