Chapter 11 #3
“I was looking for you earlier, but you weren’t in the kitchen or the conservatory, the only two places besides your bedroom that I’ve ever seen you,” he said.
“Would you prefer that I clean up the deciduous piles or that I do the weeding of the south bed? I believe there are some orchids thriving under there if we can get to them. The missus loved her black orchids.”
“I’m sorry, I’m not following. What do you mean would I prefer if you did the weeding?”
Sowerby had a fittingly sour expression that showed his distaste of the situation. “Mr. Blackwood has placed me at your disposal, miss. I am to be your assistant in the gardens for as long as you require it.”
What?
“Jasper asked you to help me?” I muttered, hardly able to believe what I was hearing.
“Yes, miss, Mr. Blackwood did, and though I’d rather pull thorns from my skin, I will do as he asks.”
I could hardly believe what I was hearing. In the kitchen last night, Jasper had heard me breaking down about the lack of progress, and now he was giving me extra hands.
The letters from his mother seemed to prove his side of the story—he didn’t kill his family. What happened between them, I didn’t know, but in his eyes, they were obviously still alive.
I looked down and fought the smile off my face, but it refused to leave me. Jasper’s kind gesture seemed to hit more places inside me than if a firework had gone off in my stomach. It felt like maybe there was a light at the end of the tunnel, though I still needed to make sense of it.
I paused again as I looked at Sowerby’s dour face.
“I can’t possibly ask you to do work in the weeds and dirt knowing you’ll absolutely hate it.
You seem like the type to wisely avoid that type of labor.
Besides, you’ll get your fine clothes all dirty.
” A nice way of saying you’re going to be a complete dick and take it out on me if you have to get dirt on your nice clothes.
His chest puffed out a bit as we continued to walk.
“Nonsense, I’m admittedly reluctant to work in the conservatory again, but I’m not afraid of dirt,” he said as if I’d truly offended him.
“Again?” I asked, a tingle of nervousness tickling at the back of my mind.
“Yes,” he said as we finally got to the hallway that led to the conservatory. “Ages ago, I was the head gardener for Mrs. Blackwood before she…left us. I was the only one she trusted to work alongside her in the conservatory.”
Something in his words felt eerie.
The conservatory door opened abruptly, and Jasper pushed through them, soaked from head to toe, sopping wet with streaks of water trickling down the lines of muscle that rippled over his chest and stomach, wearing nothing but a pair of thin, slate-gray shorts.
“The pond is fixed!” he declared triumphantly.
I clamped my mouth closed before too much drool fell out.
Oh my god.
Ohmigod. Look at his chest…
OHMIGOD. “Sorry? You fixed the pond? But…that was going to take me weeks. Sowerby and I couldn’t quite figure it out!” I said in shock.
“Not anymore, my friend. It will be ready for fish as soon as the water parameters are in order,” he said with a bright, handsome grin as he pushed the wet locks of brown hair off his forehead.
It bunched up in loose curls, more unkempt than normal.
He looked so rugged and undone—such a stark contrast to his normal tidy appearance.
The pond was fixed.
I wanted to lick him.
The pond was fixed. That just shaved two weeks of work off my timeline not having to send its custom pumps out for repair.
He’d called me friend. It felt like a good thing, so why did it twist my gut?
“You’re kidding!” I screamed excitedly. I tightened my mouth to keep my untrustworthy tongue inside and moved to shake his hand or pat him on the back or…
I wasn’t actually sure what I was planning to do, but my body went rogue, my arms wrapped around his neck and squeezed in a loose but very friendly hug. “That is amazing! You’re the best!”
Jasper’s warm brown eyes softened at my words.
Before my arms had the chance to drop back down to my sides, his were around my waist, pulling me tightly against him.
As if it was the most natural movement I’d ever made in all my life, my arms tightened at the back of his neck, causing the front of my body to press into his naked, wet chest. His broad shoulders and bare arms curled around the edges of my body, funneling me into a spot that felt like I’d been built to fill.
Every worry and concern I’d had in the last two weeks floated out and away from my tired body, and my eyes closed of their own accord as my chin rested on the top of his (very solid) shoulder.
I felt a similar heavy sigh to the one that wanted to leave me leave Jasper’s chest. It was the first time I’d ever experienced a hug that seemed to actually alter the chemicals of my body.
And what was even more astounding was that somehow there was nothing sexual about it.
In that hug, it was like I felt a part of my soul push against his and suddenly everything was different.
Realizing time wasn’t actually standing still for us even though it felt like it, we both pulled back, our eyes locked, and our arms dropped away from the embrace. But our gazes seemed to be in their own entanglement and didn’t want to break away.
Sowerby cleared his throat. Loudly.
Unfortunately, I didn’t think I’d ever felt so much in my whole life as I did in that ten-second hug. I didn’t want it to end.
It wasn’t the type of hug you gave someone you missed or hadn’t seen in a while—or the kind of hug you gave as a goodbye. It was the kind of hug that curled so tightly around your soul that it pressed the sharp edges back together again.
I knew I was supposed to talk now, to say something to break the silence, but my head was floating in the clouds.
Jasper himself seemed caught up in the same wonderment as me as we just watched one another in stupefied surprise.
“Eliza, please show me where you’d like me to start,” Sowerby said, cutting the silence. He walked past us, through the doors of the conservatory.
Becoming aware of my body again, I reluctantly pulled my eyes away from Jasper’s and followed Sowerby.
“Thanksgiving is next week. Will you be going home?” Jasper asked as he gently grabbed my arm, keeping me from walking away.
It felt like a swarm of bees filled my head when he touched me, like every logical thought simply melted away, replaced with warm, fuzzy feelings that I wanted more of.
It was the oddest mix of sensations for someone like me.
Touch always felt invasive, like a power move someone did to warn you or hurt you…
but not this. I knew I’d only just experienced the very edge of this feeling, and like a drug, I couldn’t help but wonder how more of it would feel.
Of all the people in the world to touch me and make me feel like this, I’d have never suspected the man who secretly terrified me to be the one to cause it.
“Sowerby always stays here for the holidays. If you’d like, he can continue working, so you don’t lose any progress while you are gone from the manor,” he added softly.
Thinking about going home and being ripped to shreds by my mother was enough of a javelin to shoot my chariot down from the clouds.
I hadn’t even thought about the holidays.
I didn’t want to go home, but if I didn’t, my mother would definitely show up here and cause a horrible scene that would no doubt get me fired from this job.
I could go to my apartment, but what was the point?
And she would find me there anyway; there was no escaping her unless I moved out of the country, like my sister, who even at those lengths wasn’t free from our narcissistic mother.
“No, I will be staying here…if that’s all right?” I finally said after a moment of thought.
“Of course. Chef Katya stays as well. She gets really into the themed holiday cooking, so you will be well fed,” he added with a small smile that lit his face and made his brown eyes glitter.
“Eliza! Do you wish to keep the periwinkle or eradicate the plant entirely?” Sowerby shouted impatiently from inside the garden.
“I’d better go in there,” I said gently, still not wanting to pop the compassionate bubble Jasper and I seemed to be inside of.
He nodded with a hint of regret in his eyes. “Look at the pond, and if you need anything adjusted, let me know. I should go change before my meeting. They will be arriving anytime now.”
I gave a nod, and we both turned in opposite directions.
“I want to see you at dinner tonight,” he stated at the last minute, just before the conservatory’s glass door was almost closed.
I pushed it open again and let my eyes roam over his shirtless chest. “A business dinner?” I scrunched my face. “Three out of four of the outfits I brought here are overalls. No thanks. Besides, I don’t really have time to not be in there,” I said, tipping my head behind me.
His face hardened, losing any friendliness. “I wasn’t really asking, Eliza.” A cocky smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. “It will be exponentially more bearable if you’re there, and you have to eat anyway, so you may as well join me—us.”
Something in my stomach flip-flopped. I really was doing a terrible job of staying away from him, I suddenly realized. It was much, much easier when his shirt had been on. The invitation hadn’t really sounded like I had too much of an option for refusal anyway.
How my body could be both terrified of the man and want him so badly was incomprehensible.
There was something in the way his eyes roamed over me that made me tremble with fear and excitement.
Maybe he wasn’t as horrible of a man as everyone thought?
Or worse, maybe he was, and I was being lured into his web of manipulation just like he wanted.
The truth was more time with him sounded intriguing and would give me a chance to investigate things with the ghost in the red dress a little more—ask him some questions. But I wasn’t going to embarrass myself or him by showing up looking like a complete mess.
He must’ve picked up on my hesitation, because he said, “Katya or Leah can pick you up something. They’re still in town. Leah knows your size from doing your laundry,” he said with hope in his voice.
I knew this was wrong. I knew deep down I should say no and stay away from him—at least until I figured out if he actually was a murdering liar.
He wasn’t inviting his other staff to dinner, just me, and stupidly, I couldn’t help wanting to go.
If I got closer to him, it would be easier to figure out what was really going on with the locket and the ghost…
at least that’s what I told myself, but secretly I knew I was playing a dangerous game.
He was devastatingly handsome and powerful, and like a moth, I couldn’t seem to stop from being lured into the fire.
“Okay,” I agreed, though deep down, I knew I never really had any options.
His eyes danced with mischief. “Great. Feel free to bring as many wild pigeons to this dinner as you like. Keep them on their toes,” he said with a wink before turning the corner and disappearing.
So that was that.
I was having dinner with Jasper tonight.