Chapter 10
Richard sat at his desk, quill in hand, trying for the third time to make sense of the estate ledgers spread before him.
Figures blurred together, and the column he had been attempting to tally slipped from his concentration once more—thanks to the persistent sound of female laughter drifting down the corridor.
It was high-pitched, incessant, and thoroughly maddening.
He gritted his teeth, pressing the nib of his quill harder than necessary against the parchment.
What could possibly be so amusing? With a muttered oath, he shoved back his chair, the legs scraping against the hardwood floor as he stood.
He stalked into the corridor as the sound of giggling grew louder with every step.
It led him to the parlor. He paused in the doorway.
Olivia and Miss Theodosia were nestled together on the settee like a pair of schoolgirls, a book laying open between them.
Olivia had her hand over her mouth, trying to stifle another burst of laughter, while Miss Theodosia wiped at her eyes, clearly overcome with mirth. Neither of them noticed his approach.
He cleared his throat pointedly.
Olivia’s head snapped up, and her eyes widened. “Where did you come from, Brother? You startled me!”
“I live here,” he replied, his tone clipped. “Or had you forgotten?”
“I—of course not.”
“I was attempting to work in peace, but apparently that is too much to ask.” He gestured towards the book in Olivia’s lap. “What on earth could be so amusing that it inspires shrieking laughter?”
Olivia flushed and shut the book quickly, as though the cover itself might incriminate her. “It’s just a novel,” she said with a nervous smile. “A romantic one.”
“A waste of time, in other words,” he insisted. “You would do better to read something that exercises your mind rather than numbs it.”
Miss Theodosia looked up at him, her voice edged with defiance. “I would have to disagree with you, my lord.”
He barely spared her a glance. “Of course you would. But I do not recall asking for your opinion.”
Her chin lifted. “You did not. That does not make it any less valid.”
He turned to her fully now, arms folded across his chest. “You are employed in my household, Miss Theodosia. I suggest you remember that.”
“And what does that mean?” she asked. “That I am not allowed to read? Or have thoughts of my own?”
“It means you will do as you are told.”
She stood then, slowly and deliberately, as she met his gaze head-on. “Or what? You’ll dismiss me?”
“If necessary.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Did we not agree that I was free to speak my mind?”
“On matters that concern you, yes.”
“And you don’t believe this concerns me?” she asked, her voice rising ever so slightly.
“No,” he responded. “Because contrary to what you may believe, the world does not revolve around you.”
Color flared in her cheeks. Her entire posture stiffened. “You are a pompous jackanapes.”
He scoffed. “Resorting to name-calling? I expected better of you.”
She stepped closer, undaunted by his height or the sharpness of his glare. “It is not name-calling if it’s the truth.”
His voice dropped dangerously low. “You want the truth, Miss Theodosia? You are merely a country bumpkin who ought to be grateful for the opportunity to reside in a respectable household.”
She stared at him, stricken—but only for a breath. Then her expression hardened. “I quit,” she said softly.
He blinked. “What?”
“I said, I quit!” she snapped, her voice ringing with emotion. “You may keep your money. I will find my own way home.”
She turned without another word and swept from the room.
Richard remained rooted where he stood, stunned by her sudden departure, and more so by the realization that she might actually go. That would ruin everything.
Olivia, still seated on the settee, broke the silence. “That was poorly done.”
“She’s merely overreacting,” Richard said dismissively. “She’ll come around.”
“No,” Olivia responded calmly. “You were in the wrong. You were acting like a jackanapes.”
“Olivia—”
She held up a hand. “You brought her here as part of some elaborate scheme, didn’t you? And you still need her.”
His jaw tensed. “Yes, but—”
She interrupted him again. “Then make it right. I believe in Dosia. She’s not the liar you’ve painted her to be.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I am. You may not trust her, but I do. And I won’t stand by and let you ruin this because of your pride.”
He exhaled sharply and looked towards the ceiling in frustration. “What do you suggest I do?”
Olivia shrugged. “Fix it, and quickly. I don’t think she’s bluffing.”
Without another word, Richard turned and strode from the parlor. His conscience prickled, but so did something else—something uncomfortable and vaguely unfamiliar. Regret.
He reached the entry hall just in time to see Miss Theodosia speaking to the butler, likely arranging for transport.
“Miss Theodosia,” he called out. “A word.”
She turned and sighed. “No, thank you. I have no interest in hearing anything further from you.”
She pivoted towards the stairs.
“You’re being unreasonable,” he said, following her.
She stopped midway, back still to him. “And you are being your usual arrogant self.”
“I take offense to that.”
“And I take offense to your whole person,” she said, whirling around to face him. “You don’t get to dictate every aspect of my life simply because you pay my wages.”
“You are under my employ—”
“Not anymore!” she snapped. “Or have you forgotten already that I quit?”
“You don’t mean that. This is a perfectly respectable position for someone of your—”
“Of what?” she challenged, stepping towards him. “My station?”
He hesitated. “Yes.”
She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You forget that I didn’t need this position. I have a profitable estate of my own. You’re the one who practically begged me to come.”
“I did not beg,” he said stiffly.
“No, of course not. That would require humility,” she responded. “You think yourself above me.”
“I never said that.”
“You don’t have to. Why did you truly want me to come here if you think I’m so much beneath you?”
“My reasons are my own.”
“You are an infuriating man.”
He leaned closer until their faces were inches apart. “And you are the most obstinate young woman I have ever had the misfortune of knowing.”
She didn’t shy away from him as she said, “Fortunately for you, I will be on my way shortly. And we will never have to cross paths again.”
Something inside him twisted at that. He couldn’t let her go. Not yet.
His voice lowered, more hesitant this time. “Don’t go.”
“Why not?”
He didn’t answer immediately. He couldn’t say the real reason—that he needed her to lure Mr. Smith out of hiding. That he needed her to stay.
He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. “Because… I want you to stay.”
Miss Theodosia’s expression did not waver. “No, you don’t,” she challenged.
“I do,” he insisted, though even to his own ears the words sounded too raw, too vulnerable.
She arched a single brow. “You can hardly tolerate being in the same room with me. I suspect you despise me just as thoroughly as I despise you. It is better if I go.”
But it wasn’t. Not now. Not when the mere scent of lavender clinging to her skin had muddled his thoughts, or when the afternoon light revealed unexpected flecks of amber in her green eyes.
It was maddening how much he noticed her and how quickly his carefully constructed walls began to splinter when she was near.
“You were right to be angry,” he said at last. “I spoke out of turn. I was wrong.”
She tilted her head slightly. “Was that meant to be an apology?”
“It was,” he replied, somewhat stiffly.
Her lips twitched, though the expression held little mirth. “You are truly terrible at apologizing, my lord. Typically, one begins with the words ‘I’m sorry.’ You might try it sometime.”
Insufferable woman.
He exhaled slowly, tempering the urge to snap back. “Do you accept it or not?”
For a moment, she simply looked at him—really looked at him. Her eyes searched his face, lingering on his features as though trying to determine if there was truth buried beneath his pride. Whatever she saw, it softened her expression just slightly.
“I do,” she said. “But that does not change the fact that I should probably leave.”
“Give me one more chance,” he said, the words rushing out before he could rein them in. “Please.”
A flicker of surprise crossed her face at his plea. “I shall think on it.”
He gave a short nod. “That is enough for me… for now.”
She made no move to step away, and neither did he. The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken things. And as he stood there, far too aware of the closeness of her presence, he found himself once again lost in the green depths of her eyes—and all the uncertainty they held.
“Does that mean Dosia is staying?” came Olivia’s voice from behind him, bright with hope and just a hint of mischief.
Startled, Richard stepped back, instinctively putting a safer distance between himself and Miss Theodosia. “She is… considering it.”
Olivia wasted no time, turning her full attention on her friend. “You must stay. I should be dreadfully bored without your companionship.”
Miss Theodosia glanced sidelong at Richard, her expression guarded. “I suppose I can remain for now.”
A delighted squeal escaped Olivia as she clasped her hands together. “What wonderful news! Come—we should dress for dinner. I’ve just had a new gown delivered, and I want your opinion on the sleeves.”
“I think that is a fine idea,” Miss Theodosia replied, allowing Olivia to loop their arms together.
The two women began their ascent up the staircase, their heads bent together in quiet conversation, as though the tension from moments before had never occurred.
Richard, however, remained where he stood, unmoving.
What had just happened?