His eyes clouded over, but he did not pull away from her. She let her hand drift, coming to rest on his chest. “I am sorry. I did not mean to upset you.”
Theodore closed his eyes and shook his head, finally releasing her and stepping back. Her head swam and she could still feel the warmth of his fingers against her chin, still feel his firm touch and rough skin against her.
She heard him take a long, deep breath and it reminded her to do the same. He sighed, massaging his neck as he looked at her. “In future, please tell me before you make changes like this.”
Harriet nodded. “I will. I will put everything back the way it was, and I can get rid of the carpets. If you do not want the windows open I-”
Theodore shook his head, “There is no need to do that.”
Theodore was rubbing the fingertips of one of his hands against the palm of the other, almost absently. “I do not mind the changes, most of them at least. The carpets were a sensible addition, you have taken precautions about the windows, and I am sure you have shown great care and diligence in everything else.”
Harriet did not know what to say.
“There is only one thing I would ask you to change.” Theodore’s eyes flicked towards the painting and then back towards her so quickly that she almost thought she had imagined it. “Please remove the painting. Put it back where you found it, hang anything else, but not that.”
“If that is what you want.” Harriet took a step towards Theodore, her hands reaching out to him. “I will put it away.”
“Thank you.” Theodore swallowed hard, the muscles of his neck contracting. He looked at her, opened his mouth and then closed it, leaving without another word.
Harriet touched a finger to her chin, the feel of his skin against hers felt seared into her face. “What just happened?”
Harriet glanced at the painting and then back towards the doorway. A part of her wanted to go after Theodore, to ask him what all of that was.
The smell of cedar and musk lingered in the air. She breathed in deeply, and took the painting down.
CHAPTER 16
“May I join you?” Theodore knocked on the doorframe that led into the dining room the next day.
Harriet was inside with Phoebe beside her. Both of them gave a start as he arrived, and he saw them each get to their feet. Phoebe was not looking at him, but Harriet at least, met his gaze.
The fingers of his right hand tapped gently against his thigh, trying to think of what to say.This was a foolish idea.
“Of course.” Harriet gestured to one of the footmen. “Can you lay a place for His Grace please?”
“At once.” The footman swept into a low bow and disappeared, returning a few moments later and laying out another place setting at the head of the table.
Theodore sat and helped himself to a piece of toast. The scrape of his cutlery against the China echoed in the silence of the dining hall, a sound made worse when he cleared his throat.
“I did what you asked.” Harriet’s voice had an odd note to it, it was more breathless and it caught his attention. “The painting is back where I found it.”
Theodore nodded, his eyes flicking to Phoebe and then back to Harriet. His niece was staring resolutely at her plate, picking at the bits of fruit on it. She did not see Harriet shake her head at Theodore’s unasked question:Did she see the painting?
He expected to feel relief at Harriet’s answer, but he did not. He took a bite of toast, chewing mechanically as he thought of something to say.
His outburst the day before hung in the air around them. He hated how badly he had lost control, but did not know what to say. It had taken hours for the feel of her hand against his chest to fade.
Was she trying to push me away?It had not felt like that. His stomach jolted and dropped, twisting violently until he had a sip of coffee, focusing on the bitter black liquid in an effort to calm his nerves.
“I heart you two were at the stables yesterday.” Theodore started spreading copious amounts of butter on a second piece of toast.
“Yes. If I had had more of a chance to get to know the horses, I would have taken Phoebe on a ride with me.” Harriet gave Phoebe an encouraging smile. “You were rather keen to ride on the black one, were you not? What was his name again?”
Phoebe did not reply, staring straight at the floor and kicking her legs aimlessly as her fingers tapped against the paper beside her.
“I think it was Midnight?” Harriet offered.
“He is not the sort of horse you should be riding.” Theodore suppressed a shiver as he thought of his tiny niece and Harriet atop the large black stallion. “He is flighty and can be unpredictable. He needs a firm hand, and a very skilled rider.”
