Free The Pursuit Of Marriage by Victoria Alexander

this the only room your mother wishes to have refurbished?”
    “I’m not sure. I don’t think so. I believe she intends all the public rooms in this part of the house to be decorated. Both drawing rooms, the dining room, possibly the ballroom, perhaps even the library, although that is my own personal favorite and I quite like it just as it is.” His brows pulled together thoughtfully. “I must confess to you, Miss Effington, this is all rather new to me. It was no more than a scant few hours ago that I had any idea my mother viewed this house as being quite so—”
    “Shabby?”
    “Do you really think so?” He glanced around the room as if seeing it for the first time. “Perhaps it could do with a bit of…” He cast her a look of male helplessness and shrugged. “Something.”
    “Precisely why I’m here, my lord. I am an expert at,” she grinned, “something. Now then.” She stepped to the settee, picked up her sketchpad, and took the pencil she kept attached to the book by a ribbon. “I am eager to speak with your mother about her thoughts for the house and what sorts of things she prefers, what styles she likes. Will she be joining us soon?”
    “My mother is not feeling well at the moment. She has taken to her bed and…” He paused abruptly and stared, as if she were the answer to a puzzle.
    She wasn’t at all sure she liked that look. “I do hope it is nothing serious.”
    He considered her for a moment longer. “I should have known.”
    “You should have known what?”
    “Nothing, Miss Effington, nothing at all.” A slow grin spread across his face. “I am confident she will regain her health at any moment.”
    “It might be best if I came back at another time.”
    “I believe that would be detrimental to my mother’s plans.” He chuckled.
    “Certainly I was under the distinct impression she wanted to proceed with the redecoration at once.”
    “Ah yes, the plans for the house.” He nodded. “That was exactly what I was thinking.”
    “I should speak to her, though. Do you think she’s up to it?”
    “Not today.” He shook his head thoughtfully. “No, she has left this entirely in my hands.”
    “Really?” Cassie furrowed her brow. “How unusual. I must confess, my lord, I am more accustomed to working with the lady of the house than the gentleman. Gentlemen, at least from what their wives have told me, as well as my own experience with the male members of my family, tend to be reluctant to make changes in their surroundings, whether because of comfort or cost.”
    “You will find me not reluctant in the least. Indeed, I am quite eager to hear your thoughts on my home and how it can be improved.” He straightened. “Would you care to see the rest of the house now? At least the rooms in question?”
    “Yes, of course.”
    He offered his arm, and she hesitated. This was not a social occasion. She was here to perform a service. Still and all, it would be rude not to take his arm. She drew a deep breath and steeled herself against the disturbing feel of his firm muscles beneath the light touch of her hand. He bit back a smile as if he were amused at her discomfort and worse, well aware of the odd effect he had on her. Did she have the same effect on him? It would certainly serve him right.
    “I should probably tell you something about the house itself. It was constructed about a half century ago, I believe.”
    He led her through one room, then another and another.
    The house would have been most confusing, but in the past year, she had seen several other houses of a comparable age, built along the same general floor plan: one room opening into the next, that room, opening into another and again until, if one continued to proceed in a clockwise direction, one ended up where one began. Altogether, it was somewhat larger than her family’s home and smaller than her uncle’s. It was indeed in need of refurbishing, but it had excellent lines and proportions—bones, as she