Chapter Seven

He already knows, Celia thought as dread pooled in her stomach. She had not been exactly negligent with the finances. She had kept all the receipts. But she supposed she had let her temper get the best of her when the estate solicitor visited in her brother’s absence and made her feel like she was a dim-witted female.

The solicitor had given her a talking-to about her sticking to her pin money for extra expenditures. Then he’d insisted on coming every quarter. Instead, Celia wrote to him and said that she had been instructed by Bart to retain the receipts and wait until he returned home before meeting with the solicitor again.

She’d turned down all inquiries from the solicitor as the months went on.

“Perhaps I should explain things later,” Celia said, feeling her face warm up. Why was she blushing so much around this man? She only had to show him the box of receipts and let him sort it out. But this morning, she was noticing all kinds of things about his appearance.

The brown of his eyes reminded her of the color of a dark brandy. His hair had been expertly combed, unlike the ruffled look of yesterday. She hadn’t paid attention to his hands until now, when he was sitting across from her, holding his fork. He had long, elegant yet strong fingers, made for playing the pianoforte, as he’d so well demonstrated.

Kate had mentioned more than once how handsome she thought Lord Banfield was. Perhaps Lord Banfield wouldn’t marry a woman of Kate’s station, but that wouldn’t prevent a man in his position to take his pleasures. The very thought of intimacies concerning Lord Banfield should have never entered Celia’s mind, and she looked down at her half-eaten food before she could be caught blushing at her very un-spinster-like thoughts.

“Very well, then,” Lord Banfield said, and even though she was no longer looking at him, she could feel his gaze on her.

It took Celia a moment to remember what they’d been talking about. Oh, yes. The receipts. She merely nodded, then reached for her teacup to take a sip. The tea had cooled considerably, and now it was much too sweet. She took the smallest of swallows, then set the cup down on the saucer. Porcelain clattered against porcelain, drawing Kate’s attention as well.

Celia needed some air. Space and air.

“If you need a private conversation, I can wait in the drawing room,” Kate said.

Celia snapped her head up. “Oh, no, we should keep our promise to give Lord Banfield a tour of the estate. Finances can always wait.”

Lord Banfield cleared his throat, and Celia heard the disagreement in the sound. But she refused to look at him.

“All right,” Kate said with a pretty smile that any man would be dazzled with. “If you’re sure.”

“I am sure,” Celia said with much more confidence than she felt. “If the rain holds off this afternoon, we can tour the grounds as well after lunch.”

Kate clapped her hands together. “And ride horses?”

Celia couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, of course.”

Kate turned her charm onto Lord Banfield. “We only have two carriage horses at the vicarage, so I don’t get to ride nearly as much as I’d like to.”

Lord Banfield smiled back. “Then I hope the rain holds off.”

The knot that formed in Celia’s stomach had nothing to do with the cold tea or thick ham. Would the next fortnight be full of flirting between the earl and the vicar’s daughter? Was she to watch the pair fall in love, and then be witness to Kate’s heartbreak?

“Well,” Celia said abruptly, scooting her chair back and rising to her feet. “I am finished. I will let Mrs. March know of our plans so that if there are any morning callers, she will know to put them off.”

Lord Banfield had risen to his feet as well, and his brows arched at her comment.

Celia didn’t wait for any reply from either of them before she hurried out of the dining room and continued toward the kitchen. Air and space.