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His eyes narrowed on her in accusation. “You could have warned me about Jeffers. The man spent a full thirty minutes talking about the weather and its effect on the various crops. The weather! It is England in the springtime. It is either cloudy or it’s raining.”
Amelia couldn’t hold back her laughter at his mock outrage. “Well, it has been an abnormally cool spring. And the man is passionate about his responsibilities. I’m sure he just wanted you to know the estate is in capable hands. But he’s sweet, as is his wife.”
Lowenbrock leaned back in his chair. “If you say so. I did manage to get one smile out of him.”
“High praise indeed! Mr. Jeffers doesn’t give his approval easily. Make no mistake, he would continue to do his job even if you were a tyrant, but I’m glad to hear the two of you are getting along.”
“Yes, well, there is another matter I wanted to speak to you about.”
Amelia forced herself not to glance back to the desk where several pages of her manuscript rested. Instead, she pushed her spectacles farther up her nose and attempted to look as though his words didn’t set off a spark of alarm within her. “I am at your service.”
He frowned at her choice of words. “You don’t need to be. This is your home as well as mine for as long as you want it to be. I don’t want you to feel as though you have to earn your position here.”
This man was going to be the death of her. After their first interaction, she had already built him up as a paragon in her mind, and now he was doing everything in his power to make her feel secure.
If she wasn’t careful, she’d be in danger of losing her heart to him. Somehow she needed to channel these feelings into her heroine without falling victim to them herself. Especially since the new marquess showed no signs of seeing her as anything but a duty he needed to fulfill.
“I appreciate your assurances. But this is no ordeal for me. I’m used to seeing to whatever needs to be done, and I have never resented that fact. You needn’t feel as though you are imposing.”
His gaze fixed on her. “Would you tell me if I was?”
“I’d like to think so.”
He relaxed again, and she could tell she’d set his mind at ease.
Markham wandered into the library with a slight harrumph. “So this is where the two of you have been hiding.”
“We’re hardly hiding,” Amelia said in reply. She saw the way his gaze took in the papers on the desk before he looked away. From the significant look he gave her, he knew she’d been writing.
He pulled out the desk chair and brought it to their sitting area. “What are we talking about?”
John let out an exaggerated breath. “I’ve received a large number of calling cards, and I’m not sure what to do about them. I don’t have time to visit with every resident of Yorkshire.”
She raised a shoulder in a casual shrug. “Are you surprised? Everyone is curious about the new marquess and wants to make your acquaintance.”
Markham shook his head, his expression indulgent. “Is that what you believe? That they’re curious about the new Lord Lowenbrock?”
Amelia tilted her head to one side as she tried to discern the meaning behind the solicitor’s words. “What else could it be? I know I was filled with curiosity—which you wouldn’t indulge.”
Lowenbrock frowned. “Are they planning to gawk at me and judge whether I’ll live up to the title?”
“Oh, I have no doubt that’s part of it. But I’m sure most of those cards are from men who have a more personal reason for calling.”
Amelia wished he would just say what he was thinking. “And what reason would that be?”
“No doubt many, if not most of them, have unattached daughters who are of age or nearing it. Some will want to see if Lord Lowenbrock would be an appropriate match for those daughters. Others won’t care, they’ll just want to ensure their family is aligned with his.”
Mr. Markham’s words made sense, and she couldn’t stop the dread that hollowed out her stomach at the thought. “So soon? He just took up residence yesterday.”
“The early bird gets the worm. I’m sure all the matchmaking mamas within a reasonable distance have urged their male family members to make your acquaintance as soon as possible, my lord.”
Lowenbrock was silent for several moments. From the way his jaw tightened, Amelia could tell he wanted to say something. Curiosity overcame her when he remained silent.
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m trying to keep from swearing aloud. My thoughts right now are not fit for delicate sensibilities.”
Amelia resisted the urge to tell him not to hold back on her account. She’d heard all manner of rude speech that one night in London.
