change your mind?"
"Absolutely."
That set off an entirely different set of fluttering in her stomach … bubbles of profuse contentment. Absurd—it was the lodge. She liked it too much.
"Good. In the meantime, if I'm to live as well as work here at Drakestone , I want to be assured that I may have the run of the lodge as you promised."
Rushford leaned easily against the arch. "As long as you don't add a wing onto the place without my permission."
"I won't even paint."
"Paint the lodge in yellow stripes, if you wish. Raise geese and goats. Just don't go inviting anyone onto the grounds who might pose a threat to the security of our project."
A threat? Though Caro and Poppy were liable to run wild, given the pond and the stream, and Anna was an unrepentant flower thief, they were hardly a risk to Rushford's security. Nor did he need to be a part of her private life.
"Of course."
"So, Miss Faelyn. I'm offering you the use of the lodge, a hundred pounds per month in salary, and one-tenth percent royalty on the net profits of the Willowmoon Mineworks in exchange for your cooperation. I can offer no more."
The Willowmoon Mineworks . The words slammed into the backs of her knees and her heart grew cold. She saw thick gray smoke where her village had once nestled against the hillside, and a dark-eyed dragon curled up on a heap of glittering silver.
Staying close to the beast seemed the safest way to govern him. Yes, belling the dragon. Heel, Balforge !
"I can hardly turn down such an offer, can I, my lord?"
"Well, then, Miss Faelyn." Rushford offered his hand, and Mairey took it without thinking, never expecting his to so fully enfold her own. It wasn't a handshake, it was a binding. And she could only watch in bewitched anticipation as he slowly lifted her hand to his mouth—so very warm and well-shaped—as he left a grazing kiss in the furrow between her fingers.
"To the Willowmoon , Miss Faelyn."
"Oh, yes." Her breath wobbled out of her chest, leaving her powerless to object, and wondering irrationally what his kiss would taste like—"My lord?" Sumner was at the door of the lodge, clearing his throat in short rattling bursts.
"What, Sumner?" Rushford kept her gaze as steadfastly as he held her hand, his fingers having separated hers to fit between them, as though he believed he had gained possession of her in the bargain and planned to explore her byways.
"There are three gentlemen to see you up at the main house, sir. I showed them to your office."
"Who?"
"The Messrs. Dodson, Dodson, and Greel ."
Rushford straightened, and Mairey thought she saw a despairing confusion soften the flint of his eyes, a weighty sorrow that half-rounded his broad shoulders and drew down the corners of his fine mouth.
"I'll see them now, Sumner. Settle yourself here, Miss Faelyn. Make a list of what you'll be needing and give it to Sumner. Firewood, food, blankets—"
"My clothes will do for a start."
"Ah." He frowned, distracted, and she felt illogically abandoned by his abruptness. "Send for your things—for anything you might need to get you through this."
She needed Anna and Caro and Poppy, and Aunt Tattie . And a magic potion that would put this disturbing dragon to sleep for the next hundred years.
"I'll send word this very afternoon, sir."
"Yes. Good." Rushford gave an abbreviated bow, then left the lodge as though his coattails were afire.
Oh, how easily she could imagine the stench of sulphur curling toward her as he set off to ravage the countryside. Yet it wasn't brimstone she smelled but the exotic spice of the kiss that he had lingered over, the very same kiss she'd done nothing at all to discourage, that still jangled in her veins.
A dangerous way to begin building a fortress against the man.
Rushford had been right about one thing: the lodge was large and entirely self-contained, with a small kitchen, five bedrooms, a dining room, a parlor, and a large sitting room. Five times the size of the house in
"Absolutely."
That set off an entirely different set of fluttering in her stomach … bubbles of profuse contentment. Absurd—it was the lodge. She liked it too much.
"Good. In the meantime, if I'm to live as well as work here at Drakestone , I want to be assured that I may have the run of the lodge as you promised."
Rushford leaned easily against the arch. "As long as you don't add a wing onto the place without my permission."
"I won't even paint."
"Paint the lodge in yellow stripes, if you wish. Raise geese and goats. Just don't go inviting anyone onto the grounds who might pose a threat to the security of our project."
A threat? Though Caro and Poppy were liable to run wild, given the pond and the stream, and Anna was an unrepentant flower thief, they were hardly a risk to Rushford's security. Nor did he need to be a part of her private life.
"Of course."
"So, Miss Faelyn. I'm offering you the use of the lodge, a hundred pounds per month in salary, and one-tenth percent royalty on the net profits of the Willowmoon Mineworks in exchange for your cooperation. I can offer no more."
The Willowmoon Mineworks . The words slammed into the backs of her knees and her heart grew cold. She saw thick gray smoke where her village had once nestled against the hillside, and a dark-eyed dragon curled up on a heap of glittering silver.
Staying close to the beast seemed the safest way to govern him. Yes, belling the dragon. Heel, Balforge !
"I can hardly turn down such an offer, can I, my lord?"
"Well, then, Miss Faelyn." Rushford offered his hand, and Mairey took it without thinking, never expecting his to so fully enfold her own. It wasn't a handshake, it was a binding. And she could only watch in bewitched anticipation as he slowly lifted her hand to his mouth—so very warm and well-shaped—as he left a grazing kiss in the furrow between her fingers.
"To the Willowmoon , Miss Faelyn."
"Oh, yes." Her breath wobbled out of her chest, leaving her powerless to object, and wondering irrationally what his kiss would taste like—"My lord?" Sumner was at the door of the lodge, clearing his throat in short rattling bursts.
"What, Sumner?" Rushford kept her gaze as steadfastly as he held her hand, his fingers having separated hers to fit between them, as though he believed he had gained possession of her in the bargain and planned to explore her byways.
"There are three gentlemen to see you up at the main house, sir. I showed them to your office."
"Who?"
"The Messrs. Dodson, Dodson, and Greel ."
Rushford straightened, and Mairey thought she saw a despairing confusion soften the flint of his eyes, a weighty sorrow that half-rounded his broad shoulders and drew down the corners of his fine mouth.
"I'll see them now, Sumner. Settle yourself here, Miss Faelyn. Make a list of what you'll be needing and give it to Sumner. Firewood, food, blankets—"
"My clothes will do for a start."
"Ah." He frowned, distracted, and she felt illogically abandoned by his abruptness. "Send for your things—for anything you might need to get you through this."
She needed Anna and Caro and Poppy, and Aunt Tattie . And a magic potion that would put this disturbing dragon to sleep for the next hundred years.
"I'll send word this very afternoon, sir."
"Yes. Good." Rushford gave an abbreviated bow, then left the lodge as though his coattails were afire.
Oh, how easily she could imagine the stench of sulphur curling toward her as he set off to ravage the countryside. Yet it wasn't brimstone she smelled but the exotic spice of the kiss that he had lingered over, the very same kiss she'd done nothing at all to discourage, that still jangled in her veins.
A dangerous way to begin building a fortress against the man.
Rushford had been right about one thing: the lodge was large and entirely self-contained, with a small kitchen, five bedrooms, a dining room, a parlor, and a large sitting room. Five times the size of the house in
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