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“Unacceptable. And I’ll not adjust my stance,” her husband said in a tone which brooked no softening.
“You are treading on dangerous grounds Rutledge; the other owners won't like it. You are giving the workers ideas. If there is a strike, the blame will be laid at your door,” an unknown voice snarled.
A slap echoed as if someone slammed their palm on a desk.
“Will you not change your mind, Lord Shaw?” A milder toned man asked. He sounded a bit deferential, certainly more respectful than the first voice Fanny heard.
She lifted her knuckle and rapped on the door.
There was a pause, and then Sebastian said, “Our meeting is over, gentlemen.”
Footfalls sounded, and the door was wrenched open, and she peered into the astonished face of her husband. He glanced behind her, a black scowl
settling across his features.
“Did you come alone?”
Oh. Her pulse tripped, and a blush spread across her face at the soft reprimand in his voice.
“Fanny?” he demanded at her silence.
“A footman rode atop the carriage with the coachman.” She cleared her throat aware of his incredulity and lifted the basket the cook had prepared. “I've not seen you much this week, and I thought we might enjoy a light repast.”
She smiled with serenity at his business partners. “Gentlemen. I seem to have interrupted a crucial meeting.”
Silence lingered, then a faint smile touched Sebastian’s lips, and pleasure glowed warm and rich in his eyes. “It would afford me much pleasure to do so, Fanny.”
She glanced behind him at the two men who stared at her with palpable curiosity. Her husband made no effort to introduce Fanny when he drew her inside his spacious and well-situated office. Their lips tightened, and they exited without glancing in her direction.
“I suppose there is a reason for your rudeness?” she asked, curious as to what their argument had been about.
Sebastian grunted softly but made no further reply. It was a spacious office, and she sensed he was a man who did not like to be confined. For his office was the size of their drawing room at home, or perhaps larger. It was not cluttered either. A large desk dominated the room, but there was a bank of curtained windows overlooking the street and river, a large Chinese painted screen blocked some direct light from the windows. It was cozily warm as the fireplace blazed merrily, a small coffee table, and a comfortable sofa which invited repose, together with several comfortable chairs.
Her feet sank into plush Aubusson carpet as she made her way to the sofa and lowered herself onto it. He sat beside her, and his stare as he watched her unload the food was a physical caress.
She quite liked the way he stared as if riveted by her. But why have you been avoiding me? And suddenly she knew she had struck the truth. He was not at all comfortable with their marriage either, but it flummoxed her why he hadn’t made some sort attempt to find comfortable grounds. He was a man so self-assured and powerful. She couldn't imagine he would shy away from getting close to her.
Unless...
She glanced at him. “Are you by chance in love with another, my lord?”
“I beg your pardon?”
She tilted her head back to look him in the eyes. “You heard me.”
He seemed bemused. “No... you are the only woman ever to capture my regard, Fanny,”
Delight shivered through her. She felt hot and achy and wonderful from that soft assurance. Flustered she withdrew the plates, delicately arranging a few edibles for their consumption. She handed him a plate.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
They ate in silence for a few minutes, and she hated how awkward it felt. She sneaked several glances his way, each time to find him chewing thoughtfully while he watched her. Fanny searched for a topic of conversation, a bit annoyed that he did not start some discourse.
“Your meeting earlier seemed unpleasant?” she asked, dabbing at her lips with a napkin.
A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “The other factory owners are not particularly pleased with me.”
“May I inquire why?” Fanny hoped he did not sprout some nonsense about it being an affair for men.
