been reading and stood.
“Show them to the morning room, Benedict. I’ll be with them directly.”
“Very good, sir.”
Ross tied a hasty knot in the cravat he’d pulled loose and grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair. Lindville had all but spit in his face yesterday. He couldn’t imagine what could be important enough to bring him here today. And the fellow’s mother, as well.
Ross shrugged into his jacket and prepared himself for what promised to be an interesting meeting. A part of him welcomed the interruption. At least it stopped him from thinking about Josephine Foley or trying to figure out why he’d kissed her. And why the hell that kiss had stolen the air from his lungs.
Bloody hell ! He’d kissed hundreds of women. Had even had a child with one of them, and no one’s kisses had affected him like hers had.
He walked down the hall and gripped the door to his study, thankful he had something else on which to concentrate.
“Lady Lindville. Lindville,” he said, entering the room. “What a pleasant surprise.”
He looked to Lady Lindville first. The regal-looking matriarch of the Lindville dynasty was exactly as he imagined she’d be. She sat on the velvet settee in the center of the room with her chin high, her back ramrod straight—and a scowl on her face.
She wore a gown of rich emerald green velvet that was as fashionable as the gowns worn in London at the height of the Season. When he entered the room she slowly turned her head and greeted him with a slight nod and an unsuccessful attempt at a smile.
Her son stood on the other side of the room, staring out one of the two ceiling-to-floor windows that overlooked a flower garden not yet flush with the blooms that would be a riot of colors in late spring and all through the summer. Baron Lindville turned to face him when Ross entered the room.
Lindville wore the same superior expression Ross had noted the day before, and the glassy look in his eyes wasn’t any clearer. Nor any friendlier. Ross supposed the man might be considered handsome in a soft sort of way, and no one could fault his perfectly tailored attire, even though it was a bit overdone for a casual country call. In London, the expensive cut of his clothing would speak clearly of his wealth. Here in the country, it stood out in a condescending way, as if to make a point of his elevated place in rural society.
Ross took Lady Lindville’s hand in greeting. “I see you are taking advantage of this beautiful spring morning.”
“There is a reason we’ve come,” the baroness said, shifting to sit even straighter.
Ross sat opposite Lady Lindville. “I see. Might I interest you in some tea first?” He pointed to the tea cart Benedict had rolled into the room but she stopped him with a shake of her head.
“No. I prefer to get right to the point.” She pulled her lace handkerchief through her fingers with the same finesse as he imagined a farmer wringing the neck of a chicken, then dropped her hands to her lap. “Geoffrey and I have come to make you an offer for St. Stephen’s Hollow.”
Ross swallowed. “I beg your pardon?”
While walking down the hallway Ross had anticipated many possibilities for why his wealthiest neighbors had come to pay their respects to a man who’d been shunned by all of England. But never had he considered this. He leaned back in his chair and waited for Lady Lindville to continue.
“I’ve been interested in purchasing St. Stephen’s for several years, but until now haven’t seen the necessity to act upon my wishes.”
“But now you do?”
“Yes. My son has indicated a desire to marry and I know it would be advantageous to add St. Stephen’s Hollow to Lindville Grange. It’s common knowledge that St. Stephen’s isn’t entailed, nor has it been of any importance to you since you haven’t stepped foot here since you were a youngster and your mother was still alive. Until recently, we thought you’d forgotten you owned St.
“Show them to the morning room, Benedict. I’ll be with them directly.”
“Very good, sir.”
Ross tied a hasty knot in the cravat he’d pulled loose and grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair. Lindville had all but spit in his face yesterday. He couldn’t imagine what could be important enough to bring him here today. And the fellow’s mother, as well.
Ross shrugged into his jacket and prepared himself for what promised to be an interesting meeting. A part of him welcomed the interruption. At least it stopped him from thinking about Josephine Foley or trying to figure out why he’d kissed her. And why the hell that kiss had stolen the air from his lungs.
Bloody hell ! He’d kissed hundreds of women. Had even had a child with one of them, and no one’s kisses had affected him like hers had.
He walked down the hall and gripped the door to his study, thankful he had something else on which to concentrate.
“Lady Lindville. Lindville,” he said, entering the room. “What a pleasant surprise.”
He looked to Lady Lindville first. The regal-looking matriarch of the Lindville dynasty was exactly as he imagined she’d be. She sat on the velvet settee in the center of the room with her chin high, her back ramrod straight—and a scowl on her face.
She wore a gown of rich emerald green velvet that was as fashionable as the gowns worn in London at the height of the Season. When he entered the room she slowly turned her head and greeted him with a slight nod and an unsuccessful attempt at a smile.
Her son stood on the other side of the room, staring out one of the two ceiling-to-floor windows that overlooked a flower garden not yet flush with the blooms that would be a riot of colors in late spring and all through the summer. Baron Lindville turned to face him when Ross entered the room.
Lindville wore the same superior expression Ross had noted the day before, and the glassy look in his eyes wasn’t any clearer. Nor any friendlier. Ross supposed the man might be considered handsome in a soft sort of way, and no one could fault his perfectly tailored attire, even though it was a bit overdone for a casual country call. In London, the expensive cut of his clothing would speak clearly of his wealth. Here in the country, it stood out in a condescending way, as if to make a point of his elevated place in rural society.
Ross took Lady Lindville’s hand in greeting. “I see you are taking advantage of this beautiful spring morning.”
“There is a reason we’ve come,” the baroness said, shifting to sit even straighter.
Ross sat opposite Lady Lindville. “I see. Might I interest you in some tea first?” He pointed to the tea cart Benedict had rolled into the room but she stopped him with a shake of her head.
“No. I prefer to get right to the point.” She pulled her lace handkerchief through her fingers with the same finesse as he imagined a farmer wringing the neck of a chicken, then dropped her hands to her lap. “Geoffrey and I have come to make you an offer for St. Stephen’s Hollow.”
Ross swallowed. “I beg your pardon?”
While walking down the hallway Ross had anticipated many possibilities for why his wealthiest neighbors had come to pay their respects to a man who’d been shunned by all of England. But never had he considered this. He leaned back in his chair and waited for Lady Lindville to continue.
“I’ve been interested in purchasing St. Stephen’s for several years, but until now haven’t seen the necessity to act upon my wishes.”
“But now you do?”
“Yes. My son has indicated a desire to marry and I know it would be advantageous to add St. Stephen’s Hollow to Lindville Grange. It’s common knowledge that St. Stephen’s isn’t entailed, nor has it been of any importance to you since you haven’t stepped foot here since you were a youngster and your mother was still alive. Until recently, we thought you’d forgotten you owned St.
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