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“I am not employed by you, I am employed by your sister. Of course if she were to ask me to resign, that would be a different matter, but until then I will continue on as I am.”
“Setting your sights at her! I know what you’re up to. You think you’ll retire on her money and in the comfort of her home. Well, I won’t have it, do you hear! I won’t—”
“William!”
Before William could finish his sentence, another voice spoke from the doorway. It was Amy Greentree, leaning on her walking stick, her cheeks pink with anger, her eyes glittering very much like her brother’s.
“How dare you speak to Mr. Jardine in that manner! And how dare you infer that he would in any way try to harm me or…or insinuate himself into my private life. He is a gentleman and a dear friend as well as my secretary. I am furious with you. You have no right to speak to him like that!”
William blew out his cheeks. “I have every right. I am the head of the family and—”
“That has nothing to do with it. I-I am grateful for your concern,” she said, clearly not grateful at all, “but I have never sought your advice.”
He dismissed that with a wave of his hand. “You are a woman, Amy, and you need a man to correct you when you make mistakes. As your brother, it is my right to—”
“I am a mature woman, William. A widow with three grown-up daughters. I do not need anyone to correct my mistakes.”
“You do not know the world as I do, sister. There are men in it, marauders, who would worm their way into your affections simply for what they could pillage.”
Amy was breathing fast, her hand clenched upon the walking cane, and when she replied her voice was deceptively quiet. “Be warned, William, if you persist in interfering in my life then I will cut you from it.”
He stared at her a moment as if he could not believe what he had heard. “I am the head of the family, Amy. I will have no scandal and this man is—”
But she stopped him. “I will not hear Mr. Jardine slandered by you. Go home, William, and mind your own business. You are not wanted here today.”
He opened his mouth, closed it again, and then with an angry huff, stood up and left the room.
Amy took a deep breath, and then another. She was trembling. “I don’t know how I could have been burdened with such an insufferable brother. I do apologize.”
Mr. Jardine approached her carefully, as if William’s words had made him extra sensitive about his behavior around her. “It is not your fault, Amy. Do you think I would pay any attention to a windbag like that? You know me better, I hope?”
Amy laughed, tears of anger and upset drying from her eyes. “Yes, I do. At least I hope I do.”
“Then put it from your mind, as I shall.”
“I wish I could,” she sighed. “I wish I could understand what has him in such a state. He is always difficult, but lately he has been worse.”
“At least you can be sure when you return to Yorkshire that he will be unlikely to make the journey to see you.”
“Yes, I am safe from him there.”
She looked at him a moment, blinked, and then looked away. Her face paled slightly. “I-I will leave you to your work, Mr. Jardine.”
He bowed, and then stood, listening to her faltering steps fading in the hall. Had she seen something in his face? Had she suddenly realized that William was right, and that his feelings for her were much warmer than a secretary’s should be for his employer? Strangely he almost hoped that she had—at least then the truth about his love for her would be out in the open between them.
For so long he had been content to love her in silence. He was a hopeless case, he supposed, but what was the alternative? The thought of upsetting a sweet creature like Amy Greentree with inappropriate advances appalled him.
But she was right about William. For whatever reason he had been diabolical of late—perhaps the three girls had put him in a state, they seemed to be always attracting scandal or gossip. Had he heard the latest about Marietta and Barwon’s son? Maybe that was it. Whatever had put a flea in William’s ear, Mr. Jardine was looking forward to getting home to Greentree Manor and some sense of normality.
And then a glimpse of Amy’s face a moment ago flashed into his mind—her eyes not quite meeting his—and he wondered if things could ever be the same again.
Amy Greentree stood alone in the entrance hall. For some reason she felt disoriented, as though she were on the verge of some momentous decision. Although her anger for William still lingered it had been swallowed up by something else. Something she realized she should have seen a long time ago.
Mr. Jardine loved her.
But she loved Edward…still loved Edward, even though he had been dead now for a great many years. Losing your husband did not mean you stopped loving him. And yet at this moment she longed to feel a man’s arms about her, to rest her head upon a masculine chest, to be treasured and protected and loved.
Mr. Jardine loved her and she was very fond of him. She had not realized until a moment ago, when William was threatening him, just how fond of her secretary she was. Just how much she would miss him if he went away. Her life would be quite…empty.
