Free Quick, Amanda by Lie By Moonlight Page B

master of the house gone—”
    “And I am aware that you are no fool,” he concluded, as though she had not spoken. “By the way, if
    you elect to employ the shower fixture, I advise caution. The damned thing spits hot and cold water out
    like so many small bullets. In my opinion the entire concept needs a great deal more thought and
    considerable improvement if the device is ever to replace a proper bath in a tub.”
    She cleared her throat. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
    He turned and walked away toward his own bedroom. “When you have finished indulging yourself in the
    pleasures of our very modern, extremely sanitary bath, I would like you to meet me downstairs in the
    breakfast room. I have some questions for you.”
    “What is it you wish to know?” she asked warily.
    “Among other things, I would very much like to learn a bit more about you, Miss Glade. You are
    something of a mystery to me.”
    Her heart sank. “What do the details of my personal situation have to do with finding Alexander
    Larkin?”
    “Nothing, perhaps.” He stopped at the door of his room and looked back at her. “But among my many
    lamentable failings is that when I have questions, I cannot seem to rest until I get answers.”
    She gave him a repressive look of the sort that could quiet a room full of chattering young ladies. “I
    expect you spend a good many sleepless nights, sir.”
    “Yes, but I do not consider that to be a significant problem.” He gave her a slow, devastatingly intimate
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    smile. “I seldom have any difficulty finding other things besides sleep to occupy me at night.”
    She did not doubt that for a moment. Aware that she was blushing furiously, she stalked into the glorious
    bath and closed the door very firmly.
    9
    Downstairs in the peaceful solitude of the breakfast room he drank tea and read the papers, as was his
    habit. But he was aware that a part of him was waiting for Concordia with a sense of mingled expectation
    and irritation.
    It was such a small thing, but it annoyed him that she seemed so uneasy with the notion of herself as a
    guest in the household. It was as if she was determined to maintain as much formal distance between
    them as possible.
    He thought about how she had looked in the hall a short time earlier, dressed in a cozy wrapper, her hair
    in a chaotic knot on top of her head, face still flushed from sleep. His imagination had run wild with a
    heated fantasy that involved scooping her up in his arms and carrying her into his bedroom.
    It was not hard to imagine how she would have reacted to a suggestion of a passionate interlude in his
    room, he told himself, wincing. She was already extremely wary of him as it was and he could not blame
    her.
    He did not relish the prospect of pressuring her to give up her secrets when she came downstairs in a
    few minutes. She would resent his intrusion into her private life and that would make things even more
    difficult between them. But he had no choice.
    The questions that he was grappling with had become more complicated of late. He needed answers.
    Concordia had spent a considerable amount of time at the castle, associating with Larkin’s employees.
    Whether or not she realized it, she was an invaluable source of information, Ambrose thought, turning a
    page of the newspaper.
    He had been giving himself the same lecture from the moment he vaulted up onto the horse behind her
    and led the girls out of the stable. And he knew very well that he was lying to himself.
    From that first instant when he realized that Concordia was the reason his plan had failed, he had known
    that he wanted more than information from her.
    At the very least, it would be pleasant if she demonstrated as much enthusiasm for his company as she
    had for the damned bath.
    “Newspapers,” Concordia exclaimed from the doorway. “Excellent. I have not seen any since I left for
    the post at the