Page 10 of If a Lady Lingers

“So I paid it.”

The pencil fell from her hand and clattered onto the wood floor. “You didwhat?”

“I paid up their tuition for the term.” With a shrug, he turned away from her and began looking through the plans and sketches on the desk of all the projects she’d been working on recently. Unfortunately, none of them were for paying clients. “Well, for the rest of the academic year, actually.”

She knew now—she was definitely angry athim.“Why did you do that?”

He shrugged. “There was surely some kind of accounting error on Harrow’s part that needs to be resolved, but I didn’t want to embarrass the headmaster by pointing that out.”

No. He’d decided to embarrassher. There was no accounting mistake, and this frustrating man knew it, too. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I don’t mind at all, especially since your father won’t be paid for the house until it’s finished, which will be at least four months from now and well into the spring term.” He shook his head with a smile, as if what he’d done was nothing more than fetching the morning post. “Besides, what difference does it make? I pay you, you pay Harrow…so I just paid them directly and saved you the trouble.”

She put her hands on her hips. “It doesn’t work like that.”

“Seemed to work just fine when I— Look at this!” He picked up a set of plans. “What are these for?”

Her stomach plunged. He’d found the plans for her dream house. “Nothing important. Please give them back.”

But he turned away, ostensibly to hold them up to the window to see better by the afternoon sunshine but also so she couldn’t take them out of his hands. Drat him! He was making her more furious by the moment.

He whistled in appreciation. “These are wonderfully grand designs.”

“I told you. They’re not important.” She made an unladylike grab across his front and successfully snatched them away.

“But they’re marvelous,” he protested, gesturing at the plans. “I’ve never seen a dining room like—” He stopped. And blinked. Then she saw the realization seep over his face. “Youcreated these, didn’t you?”

She stashed them beneath the other designs on her desk. “They’re just something I’ve been playing with.”

“You’ve got wonderful talent, Daisy. Those are as good as any house plans I’ve ever seen.”

She grimaced and muttered, “You’ve seen a lot of house plans, have you?”

“Dozens and dozens.” But his eyes gleamed at that obvious lie. “That’s how I knew to come to your father. Because he’s one of the best architects in England.” He sent her a crooked grin. “Apparently, the apple fell directly under the tree.”

“Please.” Embarrassment heated her cheeks.Whywouldn’t he just mind his own business? “It’s only my imagination running wild, that’s all. You can’t give them credence.”

He studied her closely. “Why are you so shy about your talents? I think your plans and designs are wonderful. In fact, I think you should—”

Enough! She wheeled on him, her hands clenched into fists at her sides as her patience snapped, and she turned the conversation onto him. “Why doyoualways dress so outlandishly?”

With a gasp, she clasped her hands over her mouth after the thoughtless words had tumbled out.Oh no!Oh, she’d gone and ruined everything!

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled through her fingers as the light dulled in his eyes. “I’m so, so sorry…I didn’t mean…”

He dropped his gaze to the floor and turned around once more to lean back against the table and fold his arms over his chest. He gave a faint smile, this one sad.

“No, you’re right,” he said quietly. “I do dress outlandishly, I suppose, compared to most other men. But dressing the other way is just so…”

Another roll of his shoulders, another refusal to lift his gaze and look at her. And another wave of guilt pierced her.

“Boring?” she whispered and dropped her hands to her sides.

“Funeral,” he corrected quietly. “You see, my mother died when I was nine. She was beautiful and lively and bright. I was the youngest and her favorite. Oh, she never would have admitted that, but it was true. My brothers all take after my father, with his looks and personality. I was more like her. The unexpected child, in every way.” Lines creased the corner of his mouth as his smile tightened, then faded. His eyes stayed focused on the floor. “The day she died all the color went out of my world.”

Her heart cried for him. She knew that same pain.

“Everything lost its shine,” he admitted. “That’s why I like bright colors so much. They remind me of her.” He turned toward the table and her sketches and absently thumbed through them, but she knew he wasn’t seeing them. “Besides, the world already has enough blacks and browns and grays in it. It doesn’t need any more from me.”