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“Does it really? Once it tastes like water, you know you’re having either a very good night, or a very bad one.”
I heard his words somewhere far off in the distance, but my mind was occupied elsewhere.
My eyes kept falling onto his chest… the bare triangle of skin that was exposed by his unbuttoned shirt. Every time he took a breath, it raised up ever so slightly. I knew, somewhere in the back of my head, that I shouldn’t be staring, but…
“How are you so tan?” I suddenly asked.
Did I really just ask that?
Will seemed to grin. His smile was so bright.
“I spent most of the summer in Italy. It’s quite sunny there.”
“Wow, Italy, I can hardly imagine… but were younaked? I mean, how does one tan, here…” I trailed off, my hand motioning over my own chest.
I looked down, suddenly realizing that I had dropped my shawl. My bare neck and collarbones were on full display. They were pale white, ghostly in comparison to Will’s golden tan.
“Oh no, oops…” I stammered, the words sounding garbled. I reached down to grab it, and suddenly found myself falling to the ground.
I reached my hands out to catch myself, but before I hit the wooden floor, I felt strong, warm hands – someone else’s hands – grabbing my arms.
A far off voice, velvety like chocolate, was speaking to me kindly.
“Come on, Amelia. Let’s get you to bed.”
I fell into his chest. It was warm, and I could hear his heart beating steadily beneath the fabric of his shirt.
“Alright, here we go.” He said, lifting me off the ground.
The next thing I remembered was the warmth of my bedsheets.
And then, nothing at all.
Chapter Six
Will
Iglancedovertheledgers with only mild interest. To my surprise, the steward of Rosehill seemed to be doing a good job handling the village and the other estate accounts.
The grounds were certainly in disarray, as Amelia had noted at dinner the night before, but that appeared to be the only thing amiss… and no one had been here in years, anyways. Was a beautiful English garden really necessary if no one were here to see it?
Indeed, I was impressed by his work. It wasn’t half bad. My reasons for staying at Rosehill were quickly evaporating.
“This is satisfactory.” I said finally, tossing the books back onto the large desk in between us.
The man grinned. A local villager, no doubt, but clearly competent.
“Thank you, my Lord.”
I gave him a half-hearted smile, and then glanced over at the clock. It was nearly lunch… and I was itching for another drink. It seemed best practice to wait until the steward had departed my office to partake in one, but he had yet to rise from his seat.
“Uh, if you don’t mind, m’Lord, I have one question…”
I raised my eyebrows.
“Go on.”
“Well, it’s just…” He trailed off, seemingly looking for the right words. “While going over expenditures, I found that we continue to fund a full estate staff at Bedham House. Is this necessary? It seems the House could be let, or the staff reduced, at the very least, as it is not occupied…”
