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When he walked into the dining hall, he saw her seated at the head of the table, the spot that was generally reserved for the master of the house. However, since ‘he’ hadn’t yet arrived, he supposed she thought she deserved the honor. And considering the simple, yet lovely gown of deep blue she wore that made a lovely contrast to the light color of her hair in the candlelight, he wasn’t going to complain.
As he sat down to her left, he dared to look at her and was pleasantly surprised to find that any ecstasy that might have shown on her face earlier that day was carefully wiped clear. She greeted him with a cool, but polite manner. “Good evening, Mr. Stone. I trust your afternoon was productive?”
He thought of their interlude in the library, but then quickly pushed it aside. “Indeed, my lady.”
She took a drink from her wine. “I regret that you were too busy to continue the tour of the house and grounds today, but perhaps we might rectify that tomorrow. It would be good to familiarize yourself with the property before the new duke arrives.”
He inclined his head as a set of footmen served their meal. He decided that this show of authority was for his benefit as well as theirs. At least one of them had some sense to rely on, as it obviously wasn’t him. His own comportment that morning had proven that all too well.
As Lady Olivia began to cut into her venison, she said conversationally, “Did you know that stag are quite hearty on the property? My father was rather proud of the hunts he used to host here.”
“I imagine he would be,” Miles returned evenly.
“Also,” she continued. “The wine is some of the finest you will find in England. The cellars are another trait that Marlington Hall can proudly boast.”
Miles swallowed the bite he’d consumed. “I just went through the selection of spirits today. I admit it is impressive.”
Her smile was so brilliant that he was hard pressed to return his attention to his meal, however delicious it might have been.
“The estate also prides itself on its tenants. Rents are generally paid on time unless there is an illness. Sheep and various crops are raised and sold each year at harvest time and…. Mr. Stone, are you listening?”
Miles blinked, admitting that his attention had wavered for a moment. He set down his silverware and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Lady Olivia, while I appreciate that you are exuberant about Marlington Hall, I have to wonder why you chose this as the topic of conversation this evening?”
She frowned slightly. “Should I have commented on the weather instead?” she asked with a roll of her eyes. “Forgive me, sir, if I am hoping to gain your insight into the estate, for only then might we be a united front for the heir. If he understood how well everything is doing—”
“He might be inclined to keep you on as an advisor?” he interrupted with a cocked brow.
Her cheeks bloomed with color. “Something like that, I suppose,” she admitted. She set down her silverware as well. “Is it wrong to want to list off all of the attributes so that he is aware of how much I care about it here?”
“I’m sure it will be readily apparent the moment you meet,” he muttered.
The furrow between her brows became deeper. “Have you never cared about anything so much that you would do anything to ensure it is never taken from you?”
Miles stilled. This was starting to veer off into unwanted territory, into a section of his past that he never wished to revisit, a part that had nothing to do with war, but which involved loss all the same. “I don’t wish to discuss it.”
Her expression cleared, her eyes holding a touch of pity that he hadn’t wanted to ever see again. Even if she didn’t know the reason for his reticence in talking about that distressing time in his life, he still remembered that look. “Was it someone you cared about very much?” she asked quietly.
He clenched his jaw and tried not to let his upset show, but she was intent on pursuing the one subject that he refused to bring back to memory. He reached for his wine and downed it in one large swallow, and then he stood. “I’m rather tired. If you will excuse me, I shall bid you good evening, my lady.”
He left without another word, or a glance back at her, but his fists clenched all the same.
Chapter Ten
Olivia watched Mr. Stone go with a heavy heart. She knew she’d pushed him too far by being so inquisitive, but she had just wanted him to understand how much she loved this place. His pain had been palpable, but that was how she felt about this estate. It wasn’t just a house. Her heart would truly be shattered if she had to leave again.
She intended to show him the beauty of the manor by pointing out everything that made Marlington Hall special, the areas that made itpersonaland set it apart from other English estates. There was a limit on what she could show him outdoors since the manicured gardens were dormant this time of year, and the pagoda wasn’t enclosed, but there was still plenty that she was eager to share.
However, now that Mr. Stone had departed the room, she did wonder what had happened in his past to cause such a deep longing in his gaze. Had it been his injuries from the war that bothered him, or something else? The thought that he might have loved so deeply that he still wasn’t over the wound certainly was more disturbing than she imagined it might be.
But since it wasn’t her place to pry, she vowed that she wouldn’t bring up the subject again. She hadn’t meant to injure him. She had just been so focused on her own determination in gaining an ally to plead her case when the new heir arrived that she hadn’t thought of how upsetting her words might have been.
And she would be lying if she wasn’t a tad curious if another lady had broken his heart.
She started to head up to her chamber, but as she passed the rooms that Mr. Stone was using, she heard the sound of something breaking. She paused, wondering if it was an accident—or if she had truly upset him to the point that he had to take his frustrations out on some poor, unsuspecting vase.
Guilt swamped her and when she heard a muffled curse from inside, she knew what she had to do.
She walked over to the door and knocked as she opened it. “Mr. Stone, I thought I heard—”
