“Aye, when my daughter visits, occasionally she lets her boy play there. I can make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
The words seemed pulled from her throat, and Audrey couldn’t understand it.
“Mrs. Sanford, why would I wish your daughter not to visit you? Did I ever give you that impression?”
“No, ma’am.” Her tone was still wooden.
Audrey didn’t think it was time for last measures, so all she said was, “Then let us try to better manage this household together. I look forward to meeting your other daughter. You may go.”
She sank back in her chair, unable to decide whether to be offended or suspicious or exasperated. She’d always gotten along well with her servants—better than with her own family! She was determined to do the same at Rose Cottage.
Robert didn’t wantto disturb the household, so he let himself in the front door without knocking. It had been three days since he’d been here, and he couldn’t take the suspense anymore. Was Molly on her way to recovery?
Would Audrey see him?
He’d never met a woman he couldn’t stop thinking about, and now he had. Of course, her entire situation was so unusual—naturally he’d be concerned about how she was getting on with the servants. She’d been trying to keep her difficulties from him, he knew, so he hadn’t intruded. She was so proud of being able to do everything herself.
He hadn’t let himself think that she might have taken ill as well.
He heard a sound in the drawing room and went toward it. At that moment, Francis entered the hall and drew up short on seeing him. Robert held a finger to his lips; Francis’s gaze darted to the drawing room. He bowed and withdrew.
Robert moved carefully, stopping in the doorway. Audrey was alone, moving from one furniture group to another, exploring her world by touch. He experienced a profound relief and gladness that she was well. Standing still for several minutes, he watched the concentration on her face, the delicate way her fingers moved over each carved detail of woodwork. Satisfaction enlivened her expression as she touched the piano, and he knew how important music was to her.
Then she suddenly stilled and cocked her head. He knew he’d made no sound, and in the army, he’d been known for his ability to move stealthily.
“Robert?”
He shook his head in amazement. “Tell me that was a guess.”
She smiled, and now he could see the faint shadows beneath her eyes. She was working so hard, and his admiration only grew.
“Let us say … an educated guess,” she said. Her head dipped, and she murmured, “I am surprised by how much I can sense your presence. It must be from spending several days together.”
He was taken aback that she’d admit such a thing. He didn’t want to know she was so attuned to him.
But he was attuned to her. He kept remembering the soft sweetness of her cheek when he’d kissed her there, the way he’d almost turned his head to make the kiss more—and thought she’d almost done the same.
Just a momentary whim on both their parts.
He studied her in the morning light; she looked … fragile, as if she’d lost weight. “How is Molly?” he asked.
Her smile held relief, and it filled him with the same.
“Oh, she is better. I am so sorry I did not write to tell you. The fever only just broke and …”
“And Molly usually writes your letters, I know.”
Audrey smiled.
“I’m glad for her,” he said, moving toward her, “but you should have taken better care of yourself. I wasn’t certain if I’d find you in your own sickbed.”
And then he touched her face, cupped her cheek, needing to feel her health, needing to comfort. She closed her eyes and gave a soft sigh, even as she nestled her cheek deeper into his hand. They stood together a long moment, and he felt the peace that had been eluding him for days.
She was well, he told himself. He didn’t have to worry anymore.
She stiffened and stepped back, pressing her lips together in the semblance of a smile. He knew how she felt—that he was touching her when no one could see them, when he had no right.
“And what brings you to Rose Cottage today, my lord?” she asked in too cheerful a voice.
