The Rake to Reveal Her. Julia Justiss

added benefit of keeping the Lady Wentworths of the area at bay. ‘Very well, I agree.’

      ‘Splendid!’

      The delight in her smile warmed him, and he couldn’t help smiling back.

      Though she’d claimed she would not cut up his peace, with that...something simmering between them, Dom wasn’t so sure. With a little shock, he realised that for the first time since the urge for solitude had consumed him, the possibility of company didn’t displease him.

      ‘Do I have your permission to inspect the building at once, while the solicitors discuss terms?’ she asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

      ‘Certainly.’

      ‘Thank you. I need to determine what materials and supplies might be necessary to make it suitable. I shall cover all the costs of renovation, of course.’

      ‘The building hasn’t been inhabited for years,’ Dom felt it necessary to warn her. ‘My father constructed a second floor, intending to convert it into a weaving factory, but the rest of the work was never completed. Getting it into shape may be quite costly.’

      ‘My father left me well provided for.’

      Suddenly it occurred to him how odd it was for a girl of her age and situation to undertake such a project. ‘It’s one thing for a Mr Theo Branwell—doubtless an idealistic cleric of some sort—to open an orphanage. Why are you doing this?’ he asked. ‘If I have relations to cosset me, surely you have family in England to take you in—or find you a proper husband. Maybe a prospective fiancé waiting in the wings?’

      He wasn’t sure what imp had induced him to add that last, but at the stricken look on her face, he instantly regretted it.

      ‘He fell at Fuentes de Oñoro,’ she said quietly. ‘For many months afterward, I wish I’d died, too. But the orphans needed someone. Now, with Papa gone, so do I. I’ve sufficient funds for the endeavour, and some of the children have already been with me for years. We’re good for each other.’

      So that explained why such a vibrant girl wasn’t already riveted, mothering a quiverful of her own children. The odd notion struck him that though he missed Elizabeth, he’d never felt he would perish without her. Shaking off the thought, he returned to the topic at hand.

      ‘I should probably go with you to inspect the building.’

      ‘You needn’t! I’ve just promised we wouldn’t be any bother. Your estate agent can accompany me.’

      Again, she’d offered him a graceful way to disengage—and again, he was curiously disinclined to take it.

      ‘Not having seen the building in years, I’ve no idea what would be a suitable rent,’ he countered.

      ‘I have seen it—at least from the outside—and had a figure in mind,’ she said, naming one that sounded quite generous to him.

      ‘You are certainly...well organised,’ he observed, substituting a more flattering adjective for the one that had initially come to mind.

      ‘Managing, you mean,’ she acknowledged with a smile. ‘You’re quite right. You see, I’ve overseen my father’s household since I was the merest child. Then, on the Peninsula—well, you were there, you know how it is. Having to anticipate movements, preparing for every contingency! Water, or none. Provisions, or none. Shelter, or none. Having your gear and supplies ready to move at a moment’s notice, should battle threaten or the army’s plans change. Which,’ she added with a chuckle, ‘they always did. Which regiment were you in, by the way?’

      Before he could answer, she waved her hand in a silencing gesture. ‘There I go, prying again, after just assuring you I would not. Please excuse me.’

      ‘It’s not prying to ask about the experiences of a fellow campaigner,’ he replied, surprised to discover he meant it. ‘I was with the Sixteenth Light Dragoons.’

      ‘Did you charge with the Union Brigade against D’Erlon’s Corps at Waterloo? A magnificent effort, I was told.’

      Dom shrugged, having never sorted out his feelings about the event that had so drastically altered his life. ‘When the trumpet sounds, one goes.’

      ‘Duty, in spite of fear or likelihood of success, Papa always said,’ she murmured, grief veiling her face again.

      ‘Duty,’ he agreed, struggling himself with a familiar mixture of pride, sadness and bitter regret for what he had lost that day.

      After a silent moment, both of them doubtless recalling what duty had cost them, Dom shook himself free of the memories. ‘When do you want to inspect the property?’

      ‘Now, if possible.’

      ‘I appreciate that you don’t mind the damp, but the weather is rather inclement. Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer to wait until tomorrow?’

      ‘Oh, no! I’m impatient to begin. Besides, the worst of the rain is over now. But truly, you needn’t bother yourself to accompany me.’

      ‘It won’t be a bother. If I’m to reside here, I must know what’s going on with the property. Did you come on horseback?’

      ‘Yes, but as I recall, the building isn’t too far from the manor. We could walk.’

      Was she recalling his admission that he no longer possessed a horse he could ride? he wondered. ‘If you’ll wait until I get my coat, I’ll escort you. By the way, in spite of what you saw me wearing yesterday, I do own a coat respectable enough that you needn’t fear being seen with me.’

      To his puzzlement, she gave a peal of laughter, quickly stifled.

      ‘What?’

      She shook with silent mirth, her eyes merry. ‘It’s nothing.’

      ‘Come, you must tell me. Have pity on a man whose face now frightens children.’

      That sobered her. ‘You can’t be serious! Don’t you ever look in a glass? You must know you are quite handsome.’

      It being obvious by now that Miss Branwell was incapable of toadying or flattery, he knew she spoke the truth as she saw it. His spirits, consigned to the lowest of dungeons after yesterday’s ignominious ride, climbed several storeys at this verbal confirmation that the unusual girl who attracted him so strongly found him attractive, too.

      As he gazed at her, their physical connection, simmering just below the level of consciousness, intensified again. Struggling to resist its pull, he said, ‘Now, tell me what was so amusing.’

      She remained silent for a long moment, her eyes locked on his. Then gasped and shook her head, as if breaking a spell.

      That, he could understand. He felt a bit enchanted himself.

      ‘What was amusing,’ she repeated, as if trying to recover her place in the conversation. ‘Well, you see, reflecting upon your appearance after parting from you yesterday, I concluded you must be a poor, unemployed ex-soldier. I’d decided to make up for my rudeness by hiring you to perform some tasks at Thornfield Place.’ Another chuckle escaped. ‘How ridiculous! Thinking I was doing a favour, offering odd jobs to a man who owns half the county!’

      ‘Not so ridiculous, given how disreputable I looked,’ he said, amused, but also touched by the compassion she’d felt for a chance-met stranger—and a surly one at that.

      No wonder she had a heart for homeless orphans.

      ‘You’ll wait while I get my coat?’

      ‘I really shouldn’t task you with this...but if you are truly sure it wouldn’t be an imposition, and I’m not keeping you from other matters?’

      ‘It won’t be, and you aren’t.’ He refrained from mentioning he had nothing on his calendar—now or any subsequent day. ‘I consider it an opportunity to become better acquainted with my new neighbour.’