Deb Marlowe

Unbuttoning Miss Hardwick


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shadows and into the light.’

      Chloe said nothing, though part of her burned to encourage the countess, to push and pry and question. The strange feeling was back again, alive in her gut, urging her to give in to the temptation. But she shouldn’t. She knew Lord Marland would find it intrusive. And therein lay her particular genius.

      Chloe knew how to blend, to fade. Transforming herself into what was needed most was a strategy that had allowed her to survive all the difficult periods of her life. It was just such a tactic that had convinced the marquess to grant her the secure haven of this position. And after so long, she knew what Lord Marland wished for and needed her to be. So she did what she’d become so adept at doing: she swallowed her curiosity, tucked away all of her wonder and excitement and unslaked desire. She was Hardwick. Calm, detached and efficient.

      Safe.

      She breathed deeply. The warriors outside had reached a détente. They’d discarded their weapons and were pouring tall drinks as they relived their skirmish.

      ‘Enough of them!’

      Chloe started when the countess reached out to tug her away from the window.

      ‘Come, Miss Hardwick. Let us spend some time getting to know each other.’

      ‘I’m sorry, my lady, but your brother was most insistent about the spear …’ Chloe began to make her way back to her work-strewn table.

      ‘He always is,’ Lady Ashton said with a roll of her eyes. ‘But answer a question for me—when was the last time you took an afternoon for yourself?’

      She hesitated, pursing her lips. She had taken a day, spent the morning walking along the seashore and the afternoon shopping for essentials in the village. But when had that been? ‘Months ago,’ she admitted.

      ‘Well, you are overdue then, are you not?’ The countess’s smile was pure wickedness. ‘I can be quite insistent, too, you know.’

      Chloe glanced again at the books and correspondence awaiting her. Her duty was clear. Yet those other voices were calling, too, and for the first time she wondered if duty—and safety—was enough. ‘Perhaps for a short while.’

      ‘Come!’ Lady Ashton was triumphant. ‘I want to hear it all—how you came to be my brother’s right hand. And perhaps I shall share with you how I escaped Denning when I cajoled Lord Ashton into asking for my hand.’ She waggled her fingers and extended her arm.

      Pushing aside her last reservation, Chloe took it and allowed herself to be led away.

      ‘And that,’ the countess said later, her voice full of laughter, ‘is how I convinced Lord Ashton that he could not bear the thought of life without me.’

      Chloe only kept her jaw from dropping by taking a sip of her tea. Among the servants at Denning, Lady Ashton had the reputation of a certain … instability. But she quite liked the countess. She and Lord Marland’s sister were comfortably ensconced in the lady’s apartments with a tray from the kitchens. ‘I don’t know how you dared,’ she said after she’d got over her shock.

      ‘In truth, I had him in a frenzy by that time. He was nearly half-mad with desire and took only the slightest of pushes.’ Lady Ashton’s smile faded and Chloe caught the hint of sadness that coloured her expression. ‘But enough about me. I want to learn about you.’ She looked her over closely. ‘Months since you’ve taken a day off?’ Impishness chased any lingering melancholy away as she leaned forwards. ‘You must enjoy your position enormously. Your father held it before you, did he not?’

      Chloe nodded. ‘He met Lord Marland abroad, years ago, and was hired as your brother’s factor. He travelled, doing research and acquiring pieces. When the marquess decided to begin building the new wing to house his collection, he asked Father to come and take charge.’

      ‘But where were you while your father was working overseas for so long?’

      ‘He was my stepfather, actually,’ Chloe confessed. She ran her finger around the edge of her cup. Surely it couldn’t hurt to share this small bit of her history. The countess could discover any of the same information if she asked her brother. ‘But he treated me as his own and we were very close. After my mother died, he was distraught. He wanted to leave England for a while, to help him forget. I went to school. He wrote me the loveliest letters, filled with the sights he’d seen and the treasures he’d found. When I was finished with school myself, I took a teaching position at the establishment.’

      ‘How happy you must have been when he returned.’

      She couldn’t suppress the smile that bloomed at the thought. ‘Ecstatic, I should say. We had not seen each other in years. I was thrilled to leave my position and to come here to act as his assistant.’ She looked up. ‘It was as if we’d never parted. I’ll always be grateful to your brother for those lovely months I shared with my father before his death.’

      ‘How lucky you were,’ Lady Ashton said wistfully. ‘I rather thought that Ashton was my chance at such a relationship. We had such a wonderfully satisfactory courtship and after our marriage we grew even closer.’ With a heavy sigh she set down her tea. ‘Thick as thieves, we were, so impatient to get back to each other at the end of the day. I finished his sentences and I vow that he knew what I was going to say before I could finish thinking it …’ Her words trailed off and her gaze came unfocused. Chloe knew she’d left these rooms altogether. She sipped her tea and left the countess to her memories.

      But in a dazzling change of mood, Lady Ashton whirled and fixed a determinedly hopeful smile upon her. ‘But the bloom does fade. A common enough situation, I would guess.’ She leaned forwards. ‘What would you recommend, Miss Hardwick, for a couple grown distant from each other?’

      Chloe’s cup rattled in the saucer. ‘Why ask me?’

      ‘My brother’s letters are full of praise for you, dear. He raves about your uncanny skill at reading people, at your ability to handle any situation or solve any problem. I thought you might have a suggestion that could help me.’

      She flushed. She shouldn’t answer, shouldn’t meddle. Almost without thought, she ran her fingers down the row of buttons on her jacket. She’d forgotten herself, crawled too far out of her shell. She needed to get back.

      Yet the countess’s pain was apparent and remarkably like her brother’s. She pursed her lips together.

      ‘You miss him, it is obvious,’ she abruptly blurted. ‘I’d wager that he feels the same. Perhaps he only needs a reminder of the closeness that you once shared.’

      ‘A reminder?’ Lady Ashton arched a brow. ‘I remind him quite regularly, Miss Hardwick.’

      Chloe tried not to flush. ‘Something only you would know, I meant.’

      The countess sat back with a frown. ‘A secret?’

      ‘A secret wish, perhaps. A regret? Something that you would understand the significance of, more than anyone else.’

      The frown deepened and her eyes narrowed. ‘That is a very interesting notion, Miss Hardwick. I shall set my mind to it.’

      Several long moments of silence passed. Chloe quietly set her cup down. She started to rise, but jumped when Lady Ashton gasped out loud.

      ‘I know just the thing!’ The countess had gone pink with excitement. ‘It couldn’t be simpler—or more perfect! Miss Hardwick, you are brilliant!’

      ‘I am truly glad I could help, my lady.’ Chloe got to her feet. ‘I should get back now, though. Thank you for a lovely visit.’

      ‘Oh, you must forgive me once more.’ Lady Ashton rose as well. ‘First I steal you away and then I neglect you. But you must not worry that Braedon will berate you, Miss Hardwick. I doubt we’ll see either hide or hair of him until dinner and then we shall present a united front. He’ll be helpless against the two of us.’

      Chloe paused and placed her hands