“I should have known you would be trouble when you questioned the running of my house.” His eyes were almost dark with anger as he glowered at her. The veins in his neck became strained and evident from the tension of clenching his jaw. Yet Livinia couldn’t help noticing something other than anger in his gaze.
Fear? Or was it suspicion?
“My Lord, I did not mean to pry; the book had got mixed up with my own. I never …” She fought for the right words, withering under the pain she saw emanating from his demeanour. She hadn’t just peeked into his journal; she had trespassed on the waters of his deepest and darkest secret.
His parents had died under suspicious circumstances, and there she was, uncovering the parts of him that he more than likely attempted to hide from the world. Guilt crept up the back of her spine and mingled with the heat of embarrassment.
“You were only being a nosy busybody who doesn’t seem to know her place.” His voice darkened as he took a step towards her. His form towered above her in the same menacing manner he’d used to try and intimidate her the day before.
“Forgive me, My Lord, but I was not nosing around. The book was between the ones used to educate Lady Theodora. I hardly call that sticking my nose where it does not belong.” She defended herself as best she could, her heart racing from the information she had just acquired and the nearness of his body.
“The book would not have been in your possession if you had followed my instructions to begin with and not questioned the running of my house.” He clenched his jaw in anger, his eyes sweeping over her form in a menacing manner that made her hotter than she would have liked to be in his presence.
Why does he always look at me like that?
Her chest began to rise and fall in uneven rhythms. The man oozed danger that was far too alluring for an unwed woman. There had to be some kind of barrier she could put up between them that would keep the unwanted feelings at bay.
“The book would also not have been in my possession if you took better care of your belongings, My Lord. I am not certain what kind of person leaves a personal journal just lying around in the parlour where anyone can happen upon it,” she bit back angrily, feeling the sting of his scorn that wasn’t quite justified by her reckoning.
The part she played in the situation they found themselves in was relatively minor compared to the daggers of anger he was casting at her. If the journal had been hers, she would have taken greater care in hiding it.
“May I remind you that I am the earl of this manor, Miss Campbell. Those in my employ are not entitled to anything ‘lying around’ in the house, as you so eloquently put it.” His voice dropped to a dangerously low tone, stroking her body with such a visceral response that she backed up until her legs hit the edge of the desk.
The atmosphere was so palpably tense that Livinia could hear her heart beating in her ears. Her skin felt strange as it tingled beneath his gaze.
Why does he keep looking at me like that?
The thought crossed her mind again as she stared into his eyes. The man had the habit of looking into her soul as if he wanted to devour her being with a single bite.
Oh, Lord …
The thought of his teeth gently dragging across her flesh as she whimpered with pleasure took her entirely by surprise. How could she be thinking such lust-filled thoughts about the man who paid her wages? Not only that, but he was entirely a different class. Her father was a book peddler, while Benedict was the earl of a vast estate.
“How much did you read before I caught you in the act?” His eyes once again swooped over her figure before resting on hers. The heavy way his breaths moved the fabric of his shirt only proved to confuse her thoughts even further. The way he was acting was doubtlessly intended to drive fear into her. Yet, it was having an entirely different effect.
“I will keep my nose in my own business, My Lord,” was all she uttered under her breath before pushing past the earl and making her way to the door.
Once she was alone in the hallway and was certain that the earl wasn’t following her, Livinia stopped to catch her breath. Leaning with her forehead against the wall, she sucked in a deep breath that stung her lungs.
What is wrong with me?
She felt her chest heaving again with the thought of his chest peeking out of his tight shirt just enough to reveal his skin. She had just discovered that there had been a murder in the house she resided in, and all she could think about was how attractive he was.
Lifting the back of her hand to her forehead, she took her temperature. There had to be something wrong with her, some kind of delirium or fever messing with her thoughts. The corridor was thankfully empty, hiding the heat that had spread over her neck, cheeks, and chest.
The sound of footsteps in the distance caused Livinia to snap out of her thoughts and hurry to her room. She needed to put as much distance between her and the earl as possible, for her own sake as well as the sake of her position.
Chapter 8
Livinia lay awake in her bed that night, thinking of what she had learned in the journal. It stood to reason that the pain and loss of his parents had caused the earl to build unbreakable walls around him. Curiosity tugged at her mind. She needed to know what had happened. Were their deaths an accident like the journal had insinuated, and what happened to Eleanor?
A sudden pounding on her bedroom door made her heart leap into her throat as she sat up straight in bed. Silence filled the air for a moment before the second round of pounding commenced.
Throwing the cover from her legs, Livinia jumped from the bed. Her legs shook with fright, but she forced them to move.
The sound of a key being inserted into the lock made her pulse race with fright.
Is this the end?
She swallowed hard, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck prickle with fright just as she reached the handle.
The door swung open to reveal the dishevelled form of Benedict standing in the doorway. The ring of copper keys hung at his side, softly clinking as he stared at her. His hair was tousled, and his white nightshirt hung from his cream breeches on one side as if he’d dressed in a hurry.
Taking a step back as he came into the room, Livinia covered her chest with her arms defensively.
Benedict shut the door behind him and continued staring at her with a wild look. “What did you read in my journal?” he demanded in a soft voice that was deep and vulnerable.
Her breath formed in front of her face with the chill he had brought into the room from the corridor. “I only read the one entry where you found your parents’ bodies. You came into the study after that.” She uttered the truth, knowing that lying would only make things worse.
A look of surprise came over his face. “That was the only entry that you read?” he asked with a heavy breath, adding to the tension in the room.
“Yes, I wasn’t going to look at the others. At least, I think I wasn’t. I only wanted to see who the book belonged to. The pages were very worn, and the journal fell open to that specific entry.” It suddenly occurred to her that the book must have been regularly opened at the specific entry. The pages were bent in such a way that opening the book on that entry was natural.
The sound of his laboured breathing filled the room for a moment.
A shuffling sound from out in the hall made them both freeze. Someone else, presumably Thomas, was busy patrolling the halls. Livinia realized that he must have been alerted by the banging as the shadow of his lantern fell under the door.
Benedict took a step forward without making a sound and placed his hand over her mouth. He shifted her gently until her back was against the wall beside the door.
