Fulton wrong? I’ll pop over and visit you occasionally, but I have a job to do so you’ll have to stay over here.”
Kip gave a bark, which she took as agreement, so with one last pat, she stood and returned to her work. Today she was determined to conquer the eccentricities of the stove, and turn out bread rolls that were perfectly golden-brown.
Yes, sir, there would be nothing for her employer to fuss about today.
* * *
All morning, Everett heard the sounds of Daisy bustling around in his kitchen, more often than not humming or singing some cheery song. He could also hear her talking to her mutt, carrying on one-sided conversations as if the raggedy animal could actually understand her words.
He gave in to the urge to go upstairs and check on her at about ten-thirty. It only made sense, he told himself, to make certain things were going as they should with this new arrangement of theirs.
The angle of the adjoining door was such that, once his shoulders topped the second floor, he was able to see through it to her place. Her dog sat at the threshold but, as she’d promised, no part of him was across it. How had she managed to make her pet obey—especially when the food smells were so tempting?
Beyond the animal, he could see enough to tell him that she’d made quite a bit of progress since he’d been up there yesterday. Despite himself, he was impressed with how much she was getting accomplished.
The dog barked. Everett wasn’t sure if it was a greeting or a warning, but it caught Daisy’s attention and she turned, smiling when she spied him.
“Hello. If you’ve come to check on the meal, I’m afraid it’ll be another hour or so until it’s ready.”
Feeling as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t—which was ridiculous—he tugged at his cuff. “Not at all. I just need to fetch something from my room.”
He strode purposefully to his bedchamber, grabbed the notebook he kept by his bedside, then headed back out.
“I want to thank you again for letting me prop these doors open,” she said as he neared the stairs. “I’ve already been able to get quite a bit of work done in my place this morning.” She nodded toward the door. “As you can see, Kip is behaving himself just like I told you he would.”
Everett made a noncommittal sound and, with a nod, headed back downstairs.
When she called him upstairs for the noonday meal, Everett deliberately took his time. No point appearing overeager.
“Your oven and I are getting along much better today,” she said as they took their seats at the table. “You won’t find nary a scorch mark on these rolls.”
Again she asked if he’d like to say grace, and again he passed the task to her. He noticed the speculative look she gave him, but he kept his expression bland. There was no reason for him to explain himself.
He didn’t pray aloud, or pray much at all if you got right down to it. The clergyman who held the living on his father’s estate in England had made certain he was familiar with the Bible and that he attended church services regularly. And for most of his childhood, Everett had been quite faithful to those teachings.
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