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“I do,” Dr. Mayweather nodded. “But I do not believe she finishes her current post until the week’s end. Five days from now? Would that be soon enough? If not, I can make inquiries for another woman, I’m sure.”
“That would be fine,” Rex answered. “We’ll need a caretaker for the outside of the house as well and a housekeeper.”
Petal gave a tiny squeak. He looked over to see her wide eyes giving him an unflinching glare. He winked back which caused her cheeks to flush with heat. “This is all done in His Grace’s name, of course.”
“Of course,” the doctor gave him a single nod of affirmation and held out his hand. It was not meant for a handshake but payment for his services.
“Thank you for your help, Dr. Mayweather.” Rex handed him a large bag of coins.
“Much obliged,” the other man responded, then, donning his hat, he headed for the door. “Lady Daffodil, will you be available to start conducting interviews for the position on Wednesday?”
“Of course,” she answered. “With any luck we’ll have the staff in place by Friday.”
“Excellent,” Rex answered, but regret made his jaw clench. He liked being with Petal and her brother. It was almost like having a family of his own, which he hadn’t had in a very long time, maybe ever. His relationship with his parents had not been one of fuzzy feelings. It had been nearer to staunch responsibility. “If all goes to plan, we’ll leave on Saturday.”
Chapter Seven
Taking this trip without Mrs. Fields was a terrible idea. Daffodil had been unable to say that, however, in the doctor’s company. Rex was staying here. To cast aspersions that he was less than trustworthy…only she would end up hurt if she shared that piece of information. Her reputation could be ruined forever.
Why could she not stay out of trouble? Daffodil supposed that wasn’t entirely true. She’d managed to barely skirt disaster so far, but well and truly, she was attempting to be free of any scandal. She just couldn’t seem to manage it.
“Petal, are you paying attention?” Rex called from across the table. No…she hadn’t been. He had his sleeves rolled up, exposing his tanned and muscular forearms. Every time she looked at him, she forgot to use her head as her body began to pulse with…wanting.
Which brought her back to her original thought. This trip was a terrible idea.
“Yes, I’m paying attention. You’ve covered the meat in lard. In my experience that only makes it more likely to catch fire.”
He raised a brow. “Yes, well that brings us back to lesson one. Don’t let the fire get too hot. With nice coals, the lard will make the skin crispy and delicious. So good, you’ll want to lick your fingers.”
She squeezed her thighs together as an image of him licking her fingers made her insides pulse. Dear lord, save me from these thoughts. “A lady…” Her voice broke and she cleared her throat. “A lady does not lick her fingers at the table.”
Rex leaned those tanned forearms on the table bending toward her. His lips were full and curved seductively as his dark brown eyes stared at her with an intensity that left her breathless. “Perhaps you should eat your meat somewhere other than the table.”
She closed her eyelids for just a moment as she near swayed on her feet. Had he meant his suggestion to sound like a caress? Now her mind danced with an image of him in her bed, licking her fingers. Then she sucked in her breath. Oh my, she pictured him without his clothes. What was he doing to her? “I’m going to hell,” she muttered.
“Where else would you eat meat besides the table?” Jacob asked as he tossed another piece of wood on the stove.
Jacob. Had she actually forgotten her brother was present? Rex had stolen her mental faculties and replaced them with raw, pulsing nerves.
“At a picnic,” Rex answered winking at her for the second time that day.
A wave of heat spread across her cheeks and neck. The man was walking sin. There was no other explanation.
“What a good idea. Can we go on a picnic?” Jacob replied. Daffodil gave her head a tiny shake. Had she gone mad? Was she the derelict? Or was Rex playing a game of innuendo? She was always at a disadvantage with this man and she was tired of it.
“Perhaps when the weather’s better. Get some more wood for the stove, would you?” she asked.
“All right,” Jacob replied heading for the door.
There was only one thing to do. A bowl of date stuffing sat upon the table next to the hens. She reached over and pinched a morsel between her fingers and then popped it into her mouth. Letting the food dissolve on her tongue, she placed one of her fingers into her mouth, wrapping her lips about it. Rex had been following her actions with his gaze but as she began removing the now-wet finger, he stopped his mouth hanging open. “Petal,” he whispered in a low, hissing breath.
Allowing the finger to pop from her lips, she raised a brow, imitating one of his rakish looks. “You’re right, there is something very satisfying about lick—”
His lips pulled across his teeth, barring them to her view. “Stop.”
She leaned over the table until they were mere inches apart. “You started it.”
His grimace disappeared in a second, replaced with a devilish grin. “You little minx.”
