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“I believe I kissed you. I think I did.”
She had. Those brief sentences brought the experience back in every detail. How could there be so much to remember in such a brief caress? The surge of longing that followed was overwhelming.
“Did you like it?” she asked.
Daniel groped for words. One didn’t speak to young ladies about such matters. It wasn’t done. They would be scandalized and offended. Or so he’d always been told. Miss Pendleton did not seem to be either. She appeared simply inquisitive. She wasn’t like other young ladies. Unless they were all like this, and he’d just never had the opportunity to find out. She wasn’t going to walk out in a huff; that was obvious. Little else was, at this moment. Except that Daniel was seriously interested in Miss Penelope Pendleton. He would have liked to hear that she felt the same. He did want to hear it. “Very, very much. Did you?”
She looked away, straightening a stack of documents on the desk. “Yes.”
Exultation raced through his veins. The muddle of his papers suddenly seemed more a blessing than a burden.
“What shall we do about that?” Miss Pendleton asked.
It seemed an honest question. She spoke as if there might be an answer lurking out there somewhere. He ought to promise that kisses would never happen again. He didn’t want to. But he couldn’t expose her to gossip and disrespect. “I suppose it would be best if we get back to work and forget what happened,” he said.
“I don’t think I can forget.”
The heat in her blue eyes thrilled him beyond measure. No, forgetting was right out, Daniel thought. “Ignore it then. Obviously we can’t be in here kissing when we’re supposed to…” A vivid picture of embraces silenced him. Her expression suggested that she shared his imaginings, which was the most enflaming idea of all. “To be keeping our minds on the task at hand,” he finished weakly.
She blinked, breaking the lock of their gaze, and looked down. “I do want to find information about Rose Cottage,” she said. “And of course help you bring order to your papers, as I promised. It would be fascinating to supervise construction of the bath.”
Hewanted to continue enjoying her company. And kiss her again. He thought of having her here for the rest of the day. Of sitting down to dinner with her and talking afterward in the drawing room. Her presence would brighten a humdrum evening, which all of them tended to be lately. And when the time came for bed… Ah, what was he thinking? He couldn’t take advantage of her innocence. But he couldn’t let her go either. He had to make sure she would be here tomorrow, and the day after. “So, we’re agreed. We’ll go back to the way things were before the… Before.”
Penelope gazed at him. This wasnota disappointment. On the contrary, it was the only choice, unless she wanted to leave Frithgerd and never return, as a respectable young lady would undoubtedly do. What would he think of her otherwise? What did he already think after the way she’d behaved? She looked down at the papers on the desk. Order suddenly seemed such a dull thing, such an overrated ideal. “Very well. We’ll say no more about it.”
“Agreed.” He seemed about to offer a handshake; then he didn’t.
They sat in silence. Having told herself to forget the kiss, Penelope of course thought of nothing else. Echoes of longing still reverberated through her. “Perhaps we should have a look at the trunks they brought down.” She needed to move, to put some distance between them, or she was going to kiss him again. What would a longer, deeper embrace be like? She rose and stepped away. “To see what we have.”
Daniel stood when she did. They walked to the parlor where the trunks had been placed, with some distance between them, like two people who were barely acquainted. He found it maddening.
Miss Pendleton moved around the room, opening all the lids. Then she stood back and gazed at the trunks. “I don’t suppose it matters where we start. We can pick a trunk and go clockwise from there.”
“Very methodical.” He hadn’t meant to be sarcastic, but he was frustrated at her withdrawal, even though it had been his suggestion. She gave him a sharp look. Daniel turned to the nearest trunk and picked up a sheaf of paper.
“I’ve forgotten my notebook,” said Miss Pendleton. She turned and left the room.
Despite the trunks, the parlor felt empty and barren without her. Daniel realized that he’d begun to think of her as part of his home, part of his day. He looked forward to her arrival. He thought of things to tell her when she wasn’t here, set aside items to show her. He enjoyed that. A new estate agent would be a damned nuisance, he realized. He’d put off hiring a new one until…until he decided to do so.
She’d been gone quite a while. Could she be as unsettled as he was? He hoped so. Daniel put the pages back in the trunk. His thoughts were as disorganized as his dashed estate records.
The object of his perplexity returned with her small notebook. “Lost your pencil?” he asked.
“What? No.”
“Thought you might have been looking for it.”
“I keep it with the notebook,” she replied, frowning at him.
“Of course you do.” Who would have imagined that efficiency could be adorable, Daniel thought. If anyone had asked him a few months ago, he’d have sworn the idea was ridiculous.
“We’ll assign numbers to the trunks,” Miss Pendleton declared. “Then we’ll glance through them quickly, and I’ll record a general idea of their contents.”
He nodded.
“A bit of chalk would be helpful,” she murmured as she surveyed them. “But eight isn’t too many to remember. The trunk on this side of the door shall be one, and we will go from there.”
“Clockwise,” said Daniel. Could she switch to business so easily? Or had her extended absence to fetch the notebook provided time to subdue her agitation? He hoped for the latter.
