labors more enjoyable. Perhaps her good cheer was due to the sense that a victory over her irascible employer was at hand. Yet there was another kind of charge in the air. It seemed to have to do with the sight of Nathan Essex, coatless. The white expanse of his shirt heightened his rakishly sun-darkened visage, and the sight of his wide back and shoulders when he walked away from Adrienne carrying an armload of books made her feel oddly breathless....
"I cannot recall a duller afternoon!" Lady Thomasina cried suddenly.
Nathan stopped midway up the ladder and looked back at her. "My point exactly, my lady. If this work were more efficiently delegated, your companion and I would be free to devote ourselves to your needs."
"My head aches." She scowled. "I will take supper in my chambers."
"Let me help you." After jumping lightly to the floor, Nathan scooped up his coat, shrugged into it, and was at her side in an instant.
"I'm not a cripple," Lady Thomasina complained.
Angus peered up at Nathan and emitted a low growl.
"What sort of mood is this? Are you angry with me for telling the truth?" He gave the terrier a quelling glance, then slipped one arm around the stout old woman as he drew her out of the tub chair. For a moment, it seemed that she was stuck. "Lean forward a bit, my lady. There we are."
She visibly melted. "I like my own way. Always have."
"So I see. And you shall have it, if you don't mind sacrificing companionship for the organization of your library."
"You're stubborn."
He gave her a dazzling grin, their faces inches apart. "We understand each other."
Adrienne watched as they went out of the room together, arm in arm, Angus leading the way. Just before they disappeared through the doorway, she called, "Good day, my lady! I hope you feel better after a little rest. If there is anything I can do, please call upon me."
"Yes, yes."
Sighing, she returned to her awful labors. The sun began to slip toward the curve of the hill beyond the garden, and still Nathan did not come back to help again. So much for chivalry, Adrienne thought, despising him anew. Everything the man did was a performance, a means to an end. There wasn't a sincere bone in his body.
Her hair was coming loose, curls falling down her back as she clambered up the ladder one more time. The library was growing dark, yet no one had appeared to light candles. It was the worst place in the world. A volume of Fielding's Tom Jones caught Adrienne's eye and, biting her lip, she peeked inside. Her hip settled between ladder rungs as she strained in the dusky light to read a scene between Tom and a lusty tavern wench. How could such graphic behavior be in print for all the world to read?
Warm blood crept into her cheeks, and she forgot about the smell of mildew that clung to her skin and the aching of her shoulders. A strange, rather naughty feeling stole over her.
"I have good news."
The sound of Nathan's voice, shockingly close, gave her a terrible start. Instinctively trying to hide the book, Adrienne lost her balance and tumbled off the ladder. Nathan deftly caught her and managed to grab the forbidden volume of Tom Jones as it sailed past.
"Don't worry," he assured her. "I have you."
In agony, and all too aware of her disheveled state, she cried, "I'm fine! Let go!"
"Are you spending more time reading than sorting?" Nathan examined the book with lazy amusement. "Tsk, tsk. This is hardly fit for the eyes of a maiden. Were you enjoying it?"
"You are beastly!" Did he notice her sweaty old-book smell? He must think that she had degenerated into a scullery maid, in need of a bath and decorum! "Only a horrid man would enjoy a book like this! It's shocking!"
Nathan was shocked too by the force of his response to Adrienne in his arms. Her curves were even more alluring than he had imagined, and she had a salty-sweet scent that was enhanced by the sight of her curls tumbling from their pins. Her mouth reminded him of crushed cherries,
"I cannot recall a duller afternoon!" Lady Thomasina cried suddenly.
Nathan stopped midway up the ladder and looked back at her. "My point exactly, my lady. If this work were more efficiently delegated, your companion and I would be free to devote ourselves to your needs."
"My head aches." She scowled. "I will take supper in my chambers."
"Let me help you." After jumping lightly to the floor, Nathan scooped up his coat, shrugged into it, and was at her side in an instant.
"I'm not a cripple," Lady Thomasina complained.
Angus peered up at Nathan and emitted a low growl.
"What sort of mood is this? Are you angry with me for telling the truth?" He gave the terrier a quelling glance, then slipped one arm around the stout old woman as he drew her out of the tub chair. For a moment, it seemed that she was stuck. "Lean forward a bit, my lady. There we are."
She visibly melted. "I like my own way. Always have."
"So I see. And you shall have it, if you don't mind sacrificing companionship for the organization of your library."
"You're stubborn."
He gave her a dazzling grin, their faces inches apart. "We understand each other."
Adrienne watched as they went out of the room together, arm in arm, Angus leading the way. Just before they disappeared through the doorway, she called, "Good day, my lady! I hope you feel better after a little rest. If there is anything I can do, please call upon me."
"Yes, yes."
Sighing, she returned to her awful labors. The sun began to slip toward the curve of the hill beyond the garden, and still Nathan did not come back to help again. So much for chivalry, Adrienne thought, despising him anew. Everything the man did was a performance, a means to an end. There wasn't a sincere bone in his body.
Her hair was coming loose, curls falling down her back as she clambered up the ladder one more time. The library was growing dark, yet no one had appeared to light candles. It was the worst place in the world. A volume of Fielding's Tom Jones caught Adrienne's eye and, biting her lip, she peeked inside. Her hip settled between ladder rungs as she strained in the dusky light to read a scene between Tom and a lusty tavern wench. How could such graphic behavior be in print for all the world to read?
Warm blood crept into her cheeks, and she forgot about the smell of mildew that clung to her skin and the aching of her shoulders. A strange, rather naughty feeling stole over her.
"I have good news."
The sound of Nathan's voice, shockingly close, gave her a terrible start. Instinctively trying to hide the book, Adrienne lost her balance and tumbled off the ladder. Nathan deftly caught her and managed to grab the forbidden volume of Tom Jones as it sailed past.
"Don't worry," he assured her. "I have you."
In agony, and all too aware of her disheveled state, she cried, "I'm fine! Let go!"
"Are you spending more time reading than sorting?" Nathan examined the book with lazy amusement. "Tsk, tsk. This is hardly fit for the eyes of a maiden. Were you enjoying it?"
"You are beastly!" Did he notice her sweaty old-book smell? He must think that she had degenerated into a scullery maid, in need of a bath and decorum! "Only a horrid man would enjoy a book like this! It's shocking!"
Nathan was shocked too by the force of his response to Adrienne in his arms. Her curves were even more alluring than he had imagined, and she had a salty-sweet scent that was enhanced by the sight of her curls tumbling from their pins. Her mouth reminded him of crushed cherries,
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