the south wing must be in the opposite direction, if the corridors were straight. But they weren’t.
* * *
After a half an hour of criss-crossing various parts of the house, and once arriving back at the dining room, she was ready to give up.
There was one hallway she hadn’t explored yet, because it looked narrow and darker than most of the others. She took a deep breath and gave it a try. It had only one door.
A door that was ajar and throwing a wedge of light into the corridor. She peeped through the crack. Aha. She had found the study and the earl. It was a small room, filled with ledgers on shelves rising to the ceiling behind a battered desk covered in papers. The earl was standing with one foot on the brazier in the hearth and his elbow on the mantel, staring into the flames of a merrily burning log fire. His dog lay prone at his feet.
He wasn’t an elegant man, his physique was too muscular, his shoulders too broad, his features too large and square, but there was nothing about him to displease the female eye, especially not now when his expression was pensive rather than hard and uncompromising. He looked not much older than she was. Early thirties, perhaps. And not really so very overpowering from this distance.
Her heartbeat picked up speed and her mouth dried. All right, he was really intimidating. Afraid that if she dallied longer she would flee, she tapped sharply on the door.
Both he and the dog looked up. Thankfully, the dog’s head dropped back to its paws and its eyes slid closed.
But his lordship was a whole different matter. His whole attention focused on her. She could feel it like a touch on her face. For a moment, a very brief moment, warmth flickered in his eyes as if he was pleased to see her.
His gaze shuttered. His jaw hardened.
Perhaps not, then. Perhaps he had been expecting someone else, for a moment later his lips formed a flat line and his eyes were icy cold. Almost as if he was angry. And yet she did not feel as if his anger was directed at her. It seemed to be turned inwards.
He left the hearth and strode to the middle of the room. ‘Miss Wilding,’ he said with a stiff bow.
She quelled the urge to run and dipped a curtsy. ‘Lord Beresford.’
‘Have you once more lost your way? Did you need an escort back to your chamber? Allow me to ring the bell for Manners.’
The irony in his tone was not lost on her even as his deep voice made her heart jolt, before continuing its rapid knocking against her ribs. Never in her life had she been so nervous around a man. Not that she met very many men in her line of work. Fathers, mostly. In a hurry to depart. Or men pursuing her girls and needing to be kept at bay.
She decided to ignore his jibe and boldly stepped into the room. ‘May I have a word with you, please, your lordship?’
He frowned darkly, but gestured for her to sit in the comfortably stuffed chair in front of the desk. He went around and sat on the other side, clearing a space before him, stacking papers and account books to one side. His face was almost entirely in shadow, while she sat in the full light of the lamp. ‘How may I be of service?’ he asked, politely enough to almost settle her nerves.
‘We must discuss this will.’
She sensed him stiffen, though his hands, linked together on the ink-stained wood, remained completely relaxed. He had strong hands with blunt-tipped fingers. Practical hands, bronzed by wind and weather and scarred across the knuckles. Labourer’s hands rather than those of a gentleman.
After a small pause, he sighed, a small exhale of air, as if he had been holding his breath. As if she had caught him by surprise. ‘I suppose now is as good a time as any.’ His voice was expressionless.
‘Was the lawyer able to provide any advice on how the terms might be broken?’
‘No. You are perfectly safe on that score.’
He thought her a fortune hunter. The desire to bash him over the head with something rose up in her breast.
But how could he not, given the terms of the will?
The chill in the air was palpable. The suspicion. ‘Perhaps you would like to explain why the earl...my grandfather,’ he choked out the last word, ‘would leave