noting the nervous flutter of her fingers, like a small bird trapped within his hand. “Good morning, Miss Lester. I trust you slept well?”
“Perfectly, thank you,” Lenore lied, retrieving her hand.
“I must off and look at the dogs—Higgs said something about an infection. Papa would have apoplexy if anything serious transpired. I’ll meet you at the stables, Eversleigh.” With a brisk nod, Jack took himself off.
Viewing her brother’s retreating back with uneasy resignation, Lenore murmured, “If you’ll come this way, Your Grace?”
Jason inclined his head, falling into step beside her as she led the way down the corridor to a door beyond the billiard-room. It gave on to a small office tucked partly under the stairs. A single window looked out over the lawns behind the house. Ledgers marched, row upon row, along the bookshelves covering one wall. Jason watched as Lenore sat behind the old desk, its surface covered with neat piles of papers and accounts, and drew a key from the small pocket at her waist.
“Is this your domain?”
Lenore looked up. “Yes. I manage the household and the estate.”
Propping his shoulders against the window-frame, Jason raised one winged brow. “I’ve often wondered how Jack and Harry manage. They rarely seem to feel the need to spend time husbanding their acres.”
Lenore’s lips curved. “As there always seems to be an abundance of entertainments elsewhere to keep them busy and as I find the occupation amusing, we long ago reached an understanding.”
“But it can’t be straightforward, not being the one in authority?”
Straightening an account book, left open on the blotter before her, Lenore allowed one brow to rise. “I’ve always been here, and everyone about knows who runs Lester Hall.” From behind her spectacles, she viewed the lean length so negligently displayed by the window. Eversleigh dominated her small room, filling it with an aura of masculine energy. At the moment, however, he seemed reassuringly relaxed. Lenore yielded to the promptings of curiosity. “Tell me, Your Grace, do you directly manage your own estates?”
One arrogant brow flew. “Certainly, Miss Lester. That is one responsibility I cannot and would not wish to deny.”
“What, then, do you think of these Corn Laws of ours, sir?” Eyes alight, Lenore clasped her hands on the desk and leaned forward eagerly.
Jason paused, studying her face, then replied, “They’re not working, Miss Lester.”
What followed was a conversation that, for his part, Jason would never have believed possible. But Lenore had the questing nature of a bloodhound once she realised he understood first-hand the ramifications of the controversial agricultural laws.
Finally, her thirst for knowledge appeased, she sat back with a sigh. “So you believe they will be repealed?”
“Eventually,” Jason admitted, his arms crossed over his chest. “But it will be some time before that’s achieved.”
Lenore nodded, her mind still busy cataloguing all she had learned. It was a rare blessing to find a gentleman able and willing to discuss such matters with her. Her father had long since lost touch with the outside world; her brothers cared nothing for the political sphere. And there were few gentlemen among her select circle who held estates large enough to comprehend the negative effects of the reactionary laws.
Recalling what had brought her to her office, Lenore shook aside her thoughts and sat up. Pulling out a drawer, she fumbled until she found another key, the pair to the first, still warm in her hand. Rising, she crossed to where a cupboard was set into the bookcase. She inserted one key and unlocked the door, swinging it open to reveal a grey metal safe. The second key unlocked the simple safe. Reaching in, Lenore drew out a small pouch. It was the work of a minute to loosen the strings and shake a handful of golden guineas into her palm. She was busy counting them when a large hand closed over hers, curling her fingers about the coins.
“No. Keep them.”
“Oh, no.” Lenore shook her head vehemently, too well acquainted with male pride to accept such a boon. “Jack would never forgive me.” She looked up, into Eversleigh’s grey eyes, one brow rising haughtily when she saw his expression harden.
For a long moment, Eversleigh studied her. “I will not accept any coins from you but I’ll undertake to tell Jack the debt was paid in full.”
Stubbornly, Lenore shook her head, her lips firming in a mutinous line.
Jason held her steady gaze, his eyes narrowed, his fingers tight about her hand. Then, his lips twisted in a wry smile. “Something else, perhaps,” he suggested. His smile deepened. He released her hand but not her eyes. “I will not accept any money in payment of Jack’s debt. Instead, Miss Lester, I’ll settle for the answer to one question.”
Lenore frowned up at him. “What question?”
“Ah, no.” Jason stepped back to lean against the bookshelves. He eyed her speculatively. “Not until you agree to settling thus.”
Lenore’s eyes narrowed. Glancing down at the coins in her hand, she debated the wisdom of making any bargain with a rake. But what could he ask, after all. Twenty-five guineas was no great sum, not in her accounting, yet if she saved it she could put it into her special fund for helping their needier tenants.
“Very well.” She dropped the coins back into the pouch and returned it to the safe. Shutting the safe, she locked the cupboard door, all the while reassuring herself that she was the one in charge. Finally, she turned to face Eversleigh. “What is your question, Your Grace?”
Jason smiled. “Why do you persist in hiding your light under a bushel, my dear?”
Lenore blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
The look Eversleigh bent upon her forcibly reminded her of his reputation.
“I asked why you are so assiduous in veiling your attributes from those most likely to appreciate them.”
Pressing her hands together, Lenore put her nose in the air. “I have no idea what you mean, Your Grace.”
“Let’s see if I can explain.” Jason straightened, pushing away from the wall. Horrified, Lenore watched, wide-eyed, as two strides brought him to stand directly before her. His hands came up to grasp the bookshelves just beyond each of her shoulders, trapping her between his arms.
Feeling the edges of the bookshelves digging into her spine, Lenore cleared her throat. “I’m convinced you are too much the gentleman to resort to intimidation, Your Grace.”
“Believe what you will of me, my dear, but allow me to remove these, before they obscure your very pretty eyes.”
Before she could react, Eversleigh had whipped her fogging spectacles from her nose, dropping them on the desk behind him.
Stifling a squeak of sheer outrage, Lenore blinked furiously up at him.
A slow smile was her reward. “A great improvement.” For an instant, the silver gaze roamed her face in open appreciation before, with a last unnerving glance at her lips, Jason returned his attention to the matter at hand. “Permit me to inform you, Miss Lester,
