Death Is in the Air (18 page)

She had to smile at that. “This isn’t the Wild West, Major. Rita and her ladies were merely doing what they
thought was their duty. I simply appealed to their better judgement.”

His gaze remained watchful on her face. A sudden breeze lifted a lock of his hair and drifted it across his forehead. He seemed not to notice. “Are you always this modest?”

She didn’t know how to answer that. While she was still searching for something sensible to say, he took her breath away with his next words.

“I got the impression that you kind of regretted asking me to call you Lizzie last night. I just want you to know that I won’t be offended if you want to take it back.” He shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “I can’t pretend to understand all this protocol stuff over here, but I know enough to want not to tread on anyone’s toes.”

She had to swallow at least three times before she could answer him. “Major . . . I mean, Earl, I want you to understand something. I know I’ve told you most of this before, but it bears repeating. As you know, there have been generations of Lord Hartleighs overseeing the village of Sitting Marsh. When my parents died two years ago, for the very first time the villagers’ guardian had become a woman. As I’ve already told you, I had to work very hard to gain the trust and respect of my tenants. I had to prove myself over and over again. I’m still proving myself. I can never let down my guard for a moment, because there are still some people who consider this job too important to be entrusted to a woman.”

“From what I’ve heard, the people of Sitting Marsh worship the ground you walk on. I’ve heard some of them defend you when one of my guys questions your position in the village. They can’t say enough good things about you.”

In spite of herself, Elizabeth glowed with the praise. “Well, that’s very gratifying, but I must never forget to uphold the traditions and the principles that have been set by my family over the years. My mother was an
outsider, and they never let her forget it. The fact that they accept her daughter at all is a miracle. No matter what my personal beliefs or needs might entail, I will always, always put my people first.”

He nodded, looking grave. “In other words, no Lizzie.”

She hesitated for a long moment. “Perhaps you’d settle for just Elizabeth, as long as it’s strictly between us, of course?”

“If you’ll agree to call me Earl. As long as it’s strictly between us, of course.”

He’d mimicked her British accent with his last words, and she laughed. In her best American accent, she drawled, “Earl, you gotta deal.”

He held out his hand. “Is it permissible to shake the hand of a lady of the manor?”

“Well, in the old days we were more used to our hands being kissed, but I’ll settle for a handshake.”

She clasped his hand and was enchanted when he raised it to his lips. It would be morning, she vowed, before she washed that hand again.

“I have a surprise for you,” he said when he let her hand go. “It’s in my room. How about I go get it and meet you in the library in, say, ten minutes?”

Intrigued, she nodded. “Ten minutes.”

She walked with him back to the house, where he left her to go in through the back door leading to the east wing. She entered by the front door and made her way to the library, where she waited in a fever of curiosity as to what the surprise might be.

When he finally entered the room, he was carrying a large basket. She watched in astonishment as he laid the wicker container on the floor then opened the lid.

The gasp that left her lips was both shock and delight when two furry heads popped up and gazed at her with sleepy brown eyes. With a cry she dropped on her knees beside them. “Oh, they are so beautiful. Where did you get them?”

“One of the guys on base was talking about his girlfriend trying to get rid of some pups. I remembered you said you were thinking about getting a couple of dogs. I took a look at them and decided you all belonged together.”

She laughed as the puppies spilled out of the basket and started exploring. “Just look at their feet—they’re huge! What kind of dogs are they?”

“Best we can tell, they’re a bloodhound mix.” He looked worried. “I just brought them for you to take a look. If you don’t want them I’ll take them right back.”

She watched the two roly-poly, cumbersome puppies stumbling over each other in their eagerness to sniff around the potted palm in the corner. The words that came immediately to mind were
double trouble.
Life would become a little more complicated with these new arrivals in the household. Earl had given them to her, however, and nothing on this earth could tear them away from her. “We’ll have to come up with some good names for them.”

“How about George and Gracie?”

She raised her eyebrows at him.

“It’s from a television show back in the states—‘Burns and Allen.’ George and Gracie are the stars.”

She smiled at him. “I like that. George and Gracie it is.”

“Good choice.” He smiled back, and her happiness was complete.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s Imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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