Page 44 of Reforming Lord Neil

“Mr. Duncan asked if I would tell him when you woke, so he can begin the roof repair. He said the hammering would wake you up. Should I go tell him that he can start working? After I tell Grandmama, of course.” She faced forward, shoulders squared. “He is looking for weeds in the garden today, since you cannot.”

“You may tell him I am awake.”

Though she would not allow her pleasure to show to her fanciful daughter, her gratitude for Mr. Duncan grew at his thoughtfulness. She finished brushing Caroline’s hair, tying it back from her daughter’s face with a ribbon.

“Thank you, Mama.” Caroline kissed Teresa on the cheek. “Would you like me to come read to you?”

“After you have done your chores and helped your grandmother.” Teresa leaned back against her pillows, surprised that she already felt tired again. Perhaps she had not recovered as much as she had thought upon waking.

Caroline disappeared out the door as quickly as she had entered.

Mother appeared moments later with a tray made weighty by tea, ginger biscuits, and a bowl of hot cereal. She put everything on the small table near Teresa’s bed. “How are you, dearest?”

“I think better.” Teresa leaned forward when her mother put out her hand. Her mother’s frown was not at all reassuring.

“Your fever seems to be gone, but your voice would indicate you still have a sore throat. The tea will help, and there is honey in your porridge.” Her mother sat on the end of the bed, hands folded in her lap. “You know, Mr. Duncan was most concerned for you last evening.”

“Yes, so Caroline said.” Teresa attempted to keep her voice light, but apparently that trick worked no better on her mother than it did when Caroline tried it on Teresa.

“He asked again at breakfast if he might do anything to help. I suggested he take on some of your usual tasks.” Mother’s eyebrows raised. “He is such a good sort. I often wonder about his history; if his family has truly cut him off, what will become of him?”

“I do not suppose it’s our business.” Teresa found a thread loose at the edge of the quilt. She tugged it gently and told herself to mend it as soon as she felt better.

Mother stood and smoothed the blanket. Her tone became far too innocent. “That might be true. But if he has nowhere else to go, perhaps he could stay here.”

Teresa groaned and slid down onto her pillow, pulling her quilt up over her head. “Whether he stays or goes, I do not care.” She had absolutely no intention of discussing Mr. Duncan’s future with her mother.

At that, her mother laughed. “Oh, I very much doubt that, daughter. Now, eat your breakfast before it turns cold. I will come and look in on you in a little while.”

When her mother left, Teresa took the blanket off her head. Her mother did not fool Teresa at all. She wanted to determine if Teresa had any intention of trying to keep Mr. Duncan with them. Well, the answer was a resounding “no.” For one thing, the man could hardly spend the rest of his life in their barn. And Teresa absolutely would not imagine any circumstance which might allow him to live inside her house. How could she?

The very idea was preposterous, really. She had told him no flirting, and she meant it. No kisses beneath trees, or in the dark of night. No affections or tokens traded. It made no sense for her to open her heart to him when he had plans to leave.

No matter how easy it would be for her to care for him.

Teresa drank her tea, hoping it would soothe her throat enough to make the porridge easier to eat. She was nearly finished with her breakfast when a loud thump against the wall of her room made her jump.

She stared at the window, then rose and went to look out. A ladder was propped against the house. Mr. Duncan climbed it.

Teresa hastily stepped away from the window and took up her shawl, wrapping it about her shoulders. Then she went back, just as he prepared to pass her on his way to the top of the house.

He paused, right there, looking straight through the glass at her. His hat was on at its usual jaunty angle, his coat was nowhere in sight, and his shirtsleeves were pushed up and secured above his elbows.

She swallowed, then winced. Mr. Duncan’s expression changed from one of surprise to concern.

“Are you feeling any better?” he asked through the glass.

Shouting through even the thin pane would prove too much for her. Teresa unlatched the window and swung it open, allowing the room to immediately fill with fresh air. Her face, when she leaned out, was less than a foot away from his.

“I am somewhat improved, sir. Thank you for asking.” She looked down, and when she did not see her daughter or mother upon the ground, decided she might continue the conversation. “And thank you for all your assistance. My mother and Caroline told me that you have been most attentive.”

His smile returned, broader than before. “I wish there was more I might do. I intend to have your roof patched up in short order, then I am to go to Dunwich. Might I fetch anything back for you?” The incongruity of his fine mannerisms and rough style of dress still amused her, and all the more when he made such a dashing figure on a ladder offering her assistance.

“I cannot think of anything I might require. Thank you.” She looked upward, at the protruding corner of the roof. “Are you quite safe? Do you need someone out there with you to hold the ladder, or anything at all?”

Mr. Duncan shook his head, still looking at her. “The ladder has a hook at the top, to keep it in place in the thatch. I had wondered about it when I saw this ladder in the barn. It is made especially for your house and outbuildings. It is sturdy enough, and I will be careful.”

“Good. It would distress me if you came to any harm.” She had meant to say those words lightly, but they came out far too serious, too honest and earnest. Teresa felt her cheeks warm when his eyes darkened.