“No. Your plan is extraordinarily close to one I’ve been contemplating.”
“Really?” Her shoulders slumped as she exhaled, looking vastly relieved. “I’m glad to hear.” She paused. “But what of Mr. Anderson?”
“Mr. Anderson?” he queried, with greater alarm.
“Mr. Townsend told you that Mr. Anderson’s quality of work has declined. The disorganized library, the missing book, the strange encounters other tenants have had with him. Not to mention that he doesn’t treat you as he should. I can’t understand why you haven’t relieved him of his position.”
Her breath had deepened. Her eyes had widened. She knew he was withholding something, didn’t she? “Allow me to deal with him in my own way, and in my own time.Please. Finding a replacement will take time.”
“Mrs. Townsend’s son is a London solicitor, and she recently suggested he might be interested in the position.”
“Pardon?”
“When you—” She stopped abruptly. “I mean,ifyou find yourself in need of a new steward, he knows the estate. And his father has a vested interest.”
The points of her gold cross bit into his palm. “I can handle my own concerns, Cassandra.”
“Our,” she said derisively, looking hurt. “Our concerns.”
His conscience panged. She was right to look hurt.
She’d gone behind his back, she’d discussed estate problems with tenants without his presence. But she’d done so because she wanted to help. And hehadasked for her opinion.
In other words, his withholding of information was still the greater omission.
“I will have a talk with Mr. Townsend,” he said finally. “And I will arrange for us to meet with his son.”
“Before Michaelmas?”
“Before Michaelmas.”
She reached out and touched his arm. “Thank you.”
She turned back around and lifted the bottom of her cap. He positioned the necklace so the cross rested in the valley between her collarbones, clasped the ends, and then rested his hands against hershoulders.
“And I must beg your pardon,” he said contritely. “I was too abrupt.”
“No matter.”
Her smile lifted only her lips—a pale specter of the sweet smile he’d come to know, love, and long for.
He wasn’t angry at her for meddling. She was simply getting too close to a truth he wasn’t yet ready to reveal. He had to tell her everything. And he would. Tonight.
*
Cassie flashed yetanother look of worried inquiry across the jostling carriage, but Harbury remained reluctant to meet her gaze. As they made their way to the meeting with her husband’s father’s friends, he angled himself toward the fields outside the carriage window, and he kept a pale-knuckled grip on the strap.
His posture made her feel as if he were deliberately separating their bodies, the same way his abrupt manner during their earlier discussion had suggested he was withholding something on his mind.
Perhaps she should have chosen a better time to bring up the issue, but she’d only just had the conversation with Mrs. Townsend about her son. She’d sensed her interference in estate matters would not be as welcome as he’d intimated in their early discussions, but she hadn’t anticipated this level of upset.
True, he’d been quick to recognize his rudeness and apologize, but she didn’t feel as if he’d truly addressed her concerns. In fact, she’d felt his apology had been a way to distract her from another, more complicated truth.
She’d known keeping the real reason for her attempted alliance with the wives a secret from Harbury hadn’t been honest. And she hadn’t been surewhyshe had decided not to be forthcoming, otherthan an instinct Harbury had been hiding something himself.
Her suspicion was no longer only instinct. Harburywashiding something. And whatever he was hiding was slowly breaking apart the foundation they’d laid together.
“We should have brought Mercy,” she said to break the silence.
