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Mrs. Amery nodded. “Mr. Rex has requested a specific menu and he’s asked for dinner service as soon as you’re ready.” She glanced at her watch. “I could arrange it any time after seven, if that suits you?”
Carmen glanced at her watch. “Seven would be ideal. I’ll take a walk down to the lakeside, then grab a shower.” Carmen sensed the housekeeper’s curiosity about the ongoing arrangements for the manor, even though she was obviously attempting not to ask outright. Had Rex filled her in on the ownership issue? He surely must have. “This situation must be difficult for you. Rest assured you won’t lose your job. I won’t allow him to sell to a stranger. It’s my intention to buy Rex out.”
“I appreciate your reassurance, Miss Carmen....” Mrs. Amery wasn’t surprised; instead, she looked skeptical.
Carmen knew that look. “But?”
“Well, Mr. Rex has been here for the past two days, organizing things for your arrival, and he is settling in nicely. I’d go so far as to suggest he seems glad to be at home.”
Mrs. Amery always did have a soft spot for Rex—but then who didn’t, the man was charm personified, and he knew it—and the housekeeper had been disappointed when he walked away from the house and all it stood for. She was obviously harboring some secret hope that he would change his mind and the Carrutherses would continue to be the custodians of Burlington Manor for another generation, and more.
Carmen offered her a sympathetic smile. “If that’s the case, he would have returned before now. I know you’d love to see Rex take responsibility for the place, but I’m afraid it won’t last. I will, though.”
Mrs. Amery nodded while assessing Carmen thoughtfully.
“Is that any help?” Carmen added. The housekeeper had a practical, reserved relationship with her employer and the family, but she spoke her mind when encouraged to do so. The intervening years hadn’t pushed that aside. Carmen was glad of it.
“Perhaps it was his father that he fell out with, not the house,” Mrs. Amery eventually commented.
That was something Carmen hadn’t considered. She took a moment to absorb the implications. It could well be the case, which put her plans on shaky ground. If Rex did want the house, then this could be a bigger battle than she thought. “If that’s true, it’s a rather sad indictment of Rex’s relationship with his father.”
“If there’s anything I’ve learned in all my years in service, it’s that father and son relationships are often difficult enough without the additional responsibility of a large family estate.” Mrs. Amery plumped the pillows and cushions on the bed as she spoke. “It can be overwhelming for a young man growing up, especially in the modern world. Rex made a lot of effort after his parents divorced, but in the end he had to forge his own path.” She turned back and smiled. “I suppose he might be reconsidering, now that he’s got a bit more maturity to him, but you’re right. He has other responsibilities. I’ll try to keep an open mind.”
Carmen nodded. “As soon as we reach an agreement, you and the other staff will be the first to know.”
“There aren’t as many staff as you might remember. Aside from Mr. Amery and myself, we’re down to four others now, three of them part-time.”
“My goodness, how on earth do you manage?”
“They’re good people, and Rex’s father had their loyalty.” She nodded at the window wistfully. “The grounds were always the priority. First impressions. He always cared what people thought of the place, even if he didn’t have the funds to do as much as he’d hoped.”
It was enlightening. Carmen wondered what personal funds Rex might have to fall back on. Once he’d broken with his father’s expectations he’d used his Oxford University degree to set up a business of his own, managing an elite team of engine designers producing parts for racing cars. As far as Carmen knew, that gave him a fair turnover and access to an enviable lifestyle, but nothing extraordinary in terms of disposable income. Then again, maybe she didn’t know enough about the racing industry. She had a business degree but the company she knew best was the one she’d inherited from her mother. Objet d’Art sold interior furnishings—classy, arty, but ultimately functional objects—for the everyday home.
Mrs. Amery tested the bell pull. “I’ll leave you to it, but do call if there’s anything you need.”
It wasn’t until Mrs. Amery left her alone that she circuited the room and noticed something had been left on the winged armchair that stood in the square bay window. Curious, she stepped closer. It was a box. She lifted the lid. Inside, a sheer black garment was folded in tissue paper. At first glance, it looked beautifully designed. Acting on instinct, she lifted it.
“I believe you’ll find it’s the right size.”
Carmen flinched. She dropped the sliver of fabric back into its box. That voice of his, it was like a trigger on her libido. How could that still be, after all these years? Turning on her heel, she stared across the room at Rex. He was standing in the open doorway, one shoulder resting up against the frame as he watched her.
“You can’t be serious.” She gave a dismissive laugh. “I don’t need you to choose my clothes for me.” She shrugged out of her jacket and threw it across the chair, obscuring the offending item completely.
“Of course you don’t, but I rather enjoyed the task, and this arrangement is about getting what we both want, isn’t it?”
“Grow up, Rex.” She had to keep her cool with him. His presence in her room, where she’d had so many foolish fantasies about him when she was a young woman, didn’t make that easy. Nor did the way he looked.
Worn black jeans outlined the angles and planes of his hips and thighs. A charcoal, long-sleeved T-shirt was snug across his shoulders and chest but fell loosely below, emphasizing his fit physique. He strolled closer to her.
“You’ve already made ridiculous demands on how this will proceed and I gave you my terms. We discuss it this weekend, as adults. I’m a grown woman now, not some dizzy teenager you can push around and play games with.”
“I liked that dizzy teenager.”
It wasn’t what she expected him to say and she was taken aback.
His gaze covered her, blatant curiosity in his expression. “And I’m not pushing you around. I admit I did tease you back then, but as I recall you seemed to love it.”
Forthrightness wasn’t a characteristic she remembered in Rex. In fact, he’d often been a mystery to her, oscillating from a chilled, confident young man to a secretive, sullen stranger who stormed out of the house, or arrived back at it with war wounds from fights he’d got into, something that made Rex’s father angry in a way they never witnessed at other times.
