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We turned into the driveway toward the house. The familiar scent of woodsmoke welcomed us home. “What about you? Do you ever think about marrying?” I asked.

“How could I and continue to work for you? Butlers do not marry.”

I turned to look at him. His profile in the light of the moon was as sharp and precise as his statement. “If there was someone you wanted, we could build a cottage for you. There’s no reason to keep to those old rules. Not here.”

“Lizzie’s certainly embraced the new ways. It’s that blasted raspberry wine she drinks after supper. Her tongue loosens, and the next thing I know she’s telling me she loves me.”

“What did you say?” Was he joking? No, his features were arranged in their usual serious position. “I thought you two were mortal enemies.”

“How a person could be so irritatingly cheerful is beyond my comprehension. However, I wouldn’t describe her as my enemy. I vacillate between wanting to kiss her and send her to her room with no supper.”

I chuckled. “Given that she cooks our supper, that would be difficult. I’d go with kissing.”

“There’s a bothersome and distracting tension between us. Acting upon it could ruin both our lives.”

“I’m not sure how taking a woman to bed could ruin your life. Especially if you’ve married her first.”

“I’m not the kind to fall in love.”

“You could be happy together. What’s wrong with happiness?” I asked. “You want it for me.”

“Happiness is for other people. Normal people.”

“You’re the most stubborn man I’ve ever known,” I said.

“Thank you, lord.”

“That was not praise.” I slowed the horses as we passed by the house. The horses neighed, happy to see the barn. “Listen to me carefully. If you continue to break both your hearts by being a mulish fool, then I have no choice but to send you home to England.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I wouldn’t. But I can’t have you hurting Lizzie.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Let me ask you this,” I said. “What would you think if I told you Clive Higgins was asking about her?”

He didn’t answer, but his shoulders stiffened.

“Should I tell him she’s available for courting?” I asked.

“She wouldn’t like him. He’s uneducated.”

“I believe the ladies find him handsome.”

Again, silence, then a sniff.

Forgive me for my white lie, I prayed silently. But what’s a man to do with a mule?

“If she liked him, it would settle things once and for all,” Jasper said.

“Sure thing. I’ll throw them a nice wedding reception in the garden next summer. Soon they’ll have pretty babies, and you’ll still be all alone in your room downstairs.”

“Excellent idea.”

Despite his words to the contrary, his tight tone betrayed him. I smiled to myself in the darkness. Clive Higgins might need to drop by to borrow some sugar one afternoon. Nothing like a little competition to wake a man to his destiny.

Around noon the next day, I headed over to talk to the Higgins brothers about what they knew. They were both behind the counter, although the shop was empty of customers.


Tags: Tess Thompson Emerson Pass Historicals Historical