Never Dance with a Marquess (The Never Series Book 2) Maggi Andersen (best short novels of all time TXT) 📖

A light knock, and the door opened. Bella slipped inside. “Nicholas? I broke my pencil.”

Nicholas raised his eyebrows. “I’m sure there’s a good supply in the schoolroom, Bella.”

She crossed the room to him and cast a glance at the two men who rose to their feet.

“Miss Arabella Leeming, my new secretary, Mr. Warren.”

His young ward blushed and fluttered her eyelashes. “We met in the corridor,” she said. “You’ll be staying here, then?”

Warren smiled. “I hope so, Miss Leeming.”

Nicholas opened a drawer and removed several pencils. He held them out to her. “Bella?”

She paid him no attention, her warm gaze still fixed on his new secretary. With a silent groan, Nicholas rose and held her arm. “Allow me to escort you back to the schoolroom.”

He discovered Miss Scotsdale searching for Bella in the upper corridor and sent a footman to find Carrie. She needed to deal with this problem before she left tomorrow. He admitted to being completely out of his depth.

Carrie joined him in the morning room. She looked flustered, her cheeks pink. A glossy auburn curl escaped and rested against her cheek.

She sat on the sofa beside him. “Anna has everything packed.”

He resisted the urge to tuck the curl away. But it was perfect the way it was. “Good. Abercrombie will have your trunk and bandboxes sent down to the hall. We shall leave at first light.”

“I’ll be ready.”

Nicholas swallowed and tried to ignore the hollow sensation gathering in his chest. He would miss her at breakfast. Their morning ride. The card play and chess games after dinner. The house would seem empty. Especially when Jeremy returned to school.

After several minutes, she said, “Did you wish to discuss something with me?”

“I did. Yes, Bella.”

“Oh?”

“I would like you to talk to your sister. I can’t have her making calf eyes at my new secretary.”

“When was this? I understood her to be in the schoolroom.”

“In the library a few moments ago. She made some pretense about needing pencils. The housekeeper assured me the schoolroom is well stocked. I realize Bella is just a child, but I can’t allow…”

“Bella is almost fifteen. She can no longer be called a child,” Carrie said. “But I don’t see the harm in it. Unless you have little faith in your secretary.”

“I’d trust Michael Warren with my life.”

“Then there is nothing to be said.”

“You don’t want to caution her?”

Carrie shook her head. “It’s going to be hard enough to leave her here. I don’t want her more upset than is necessary. And I’m confident you can deal with anything that might arise.” Her fingers neatened the curl away behind her ear. “I know you don’t want me to delay my trip, Nicholas. But it might be wise for me to spend another week here.”

Her gaze challenged him. He sat back and observed her. How tempting to agree to another week, but he feared it would soon become longer, and then he would find it too difficult to let her go. “No. My sister has several engagements for you to attend.”

“I’m only concerned about leaving Bella and Jeremy because I’ve always been there for them…” She broke off with a sigh.

“And now it’s time for you to enjoy your life.” He put an arm around her slim shoulders, her flowery perfume a distraction. When she leaned toward him, he fought the desire to pull her closer. “Please don’t spend your time in London worrying, Carrie. I’ll make sure nothing will occur to concern you,” he said with unnecessary impetus as he withdrew his arm. It unnerved him to be thrown off balance and unsure of his own feelings. “You must admit they have grown comfortable here.”

She searched his eyes. “Yes, they have. I’ve enjoyed my time here, too.”

“Despite all that has happened?” he asked with a smile, attempting to lighten the moment.

“Despite it all,” she murmured. “For we all survived, didn’t we? Thanks to you.”

Their eyes met, his determination to see her settled in London suddenly at risk.

A knock made them hasten to put distance between them on the sofa. A footman opened the door. “My lord…” he began.

Miss Carswell, the spinster from the village, pushed past James. Her eyes narrowed as she looked from Nicholas to Carrie. “I am sorry to disturb you, my lord, but it’s of the utmost urgency that I speak to you.”

Nicholas rose. Dash it, what was the woman thinking to burst in here? And where was Abercrombie? She would never have got past him. “What can I do for you, Miss Carswell?”

A flush painted her face. She darted another glance at Carrie. “A black horse belonging to your stable is, at this very minute, roaming my garden, my lord. He has trampled my prize roses and is eating my lawn.”

“My horse, Miss Carswell?”

“Yes. A savage beast.”

“We must deal with it.” He stood aside for her to pass regally through the doorway. “I shall send word to my stable master.” The woman should have gone there. “If the horse belongs to Elm Park, my groom will retrieve it, but I have received no word of any missing horses.”

“The animal must be shot,” she declared as Abercrombie hurried toward them from the direction of the staff quarters.

“I assure you, no matter who the horse belongs to, it will not be shot.” Nicholas gestured to the door. “Abercrombie will see you out.”

As his butler ushered the woman away, Nicholas turned to the hapless footman who studied his feet. “Go to the stables, Giles, tell Henning to deal with this, and report back to me.”

Nicholas entered the morning room again and shut the door. “Dashed pest of a woman.”

Indignation flared in her eyes. “But the horse has trampled her roses. My mother loved her rose garden. Should you not see to