don’t know if I have any syrup of poppy. Ah, the memory fails at times, Miss Dunne. You’re welcome to check the storeroom to see, however.” She beamed at Rachel, adding to her feelings of guilt. “You are a kind soul to offer to help the girl. Her sickness comes at an awful time. I worry that no matter how well your tonic works, though, she will still be too ill to accompany us when the doctor leaves for Finchingfield in three days.”
“I was not aware he was leaving for Finchingfield.”
“He needs to check on progress there, miss. Before the household moves, you know. But as I was saying, now Molly won’t be able to go and do the tasks he’d assigned her.” Mrs. Mainprice brushed a dusty knuckle across her jaw. “Well, now, I’ve just had a thought. What if you came with us in Molly’s place?”
Rachel jabbed the pin into her scalp. “Me? To Finchingfield?”
“Why not?” The housekeeper shrugged. “Take a break from London. Help me inventory the kitchen stores, what Molly was going to help me do.”
“I have only been here a week. Surely not sufficiently long to warrant a break.” But the countryside . . . fresh air, clear skies, grass and trees and maybe flowers even. Such a temptation. A temptation made even greater by the prospect of being away from Molly.
“A week ’twas long enough for me when I first arrived! This trip would be a fine chance for you to see the countryside, which I’m sure you miss,” the housekeeper replied as if she could read Rachel’s thoughts. “’Twill only be for a day and a half.”
Rachel shoved the hairpin home. “Thank you for thinking of me, but I imagine Dr. Edmunds would prefer I stay here and continue to make progress in the library.”
The housekeeper’s dark eyes twinkled, and her smile widened. “Now I don’t know if he prefers that at all.”
CHAPTER 14
James paced the library. The heels of his shoes rapped on the bare floor, the carpet rolled against the wall, twine cording its length like a sausage ready for the boil. Signs of progress toward his departure, but no sign of Miss Dunne. He knew she had returned from her interview. He’d seen Miss Harwood’s carriage on the curb.
He tapped the volume of poetry against his thigh in rhythm to his steps. With each passing minute, he was feeling more and more idiotic. He glanced down at the book. A gift for an employee and it wasn’t even Boxing Day. What was he thinking?
Thrusting the book beneath his elbow, he headed for the hallway. Miss Dunne, a flurry of copper-colored hair and billowing skirts, rushed into the room before he reached the doorway. She was wearing a new dress, one he’d never seen before, and it made her look like . . . a lady. A very pretty and very appealing young lady.
“Sir! Peg just told me you were waiting up here.” A strand of hair unraveled behind her ear. “I seem to be always late or away from my tasks. It is not my usual habit, I assure you.”
“Don’t worry” Her eyes flicked to the book tucked under his arm, and he pulled it out. “I . . . Here. I was waiting to give you this.”
“A book?” Miss Dunne’s gaze moved from James’s outstretched hand to his face and back again. “For me?”
Had no one ever given her a gift before? Or was she simply reluctant because it was a gift from him? What am I thinking by doing this?
“A token of appreciation for being so brave with Mr. Fenton-Smith.” Good heavens, he was actually nervous she might refuse it. “And, if I’m completely honest, a token to ease my guilt over forcing you to sit with the man when you warned me you had no stomach for nursing.”
“I cannot accept such generosity. A book is too valuable.”
“It’s a duplicate of another I already own, and it will be donated elsewhere if you don’t take it,” he said, book still extended, her hands still clasped at her waist. Well, he could be just as stubborn as she was proving to be. “This gift comes with no obligations or expectations, Miss Dunne, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Dr. Edmunds, I insist—”
“And so do I. Stop refusing, Miss Dunne.” He waved the book at her. “Take it.”
“All right, then,” she conceded and slipped the volume of poetry from his grasp. She traced the gold-embossed tooling on the cover, a loving