Shattered Dreams (4 page)

“
The master wants to see you,” the butler growled at
Tilly.

Tilly’s
stomach dropped to her toes as she stared after him and then looked
down at her dress in dismay. She opened her mouth to ask for a
moment to get changed into something that didn’t smell, but then
closed it again with a snap. The unfriendliness of both of the
butler, and the woman at the table, assured her that she would get
little sympathy from either of them.

She
sighed and clutched her bag a little tighter as she hurried after
the butler, who didn’t bother to wait around to see if she was
behind him as he stomped through the house.

“
Hurry up, he doesn’t have all day,” he growled impatiently
when she eventually caught up with him in the hallway.

Tilly
merely threw him a dark look and walked a little slower.
Unfortunately, the butler didn’t seem inclined to wait any longer
than he absolutely had to because she hadn’t even reached him
before he threw the door open.

“
Miss Fenning - thing,” he mumbled, but didn’t bother to look
at the man inside. He couldn’t, because his eyes were too busy
studying Tilly’s ample bosoms as she passed.

Tilly
walked into the room and felt her stomach drop to her knees. The
world around her faded into insignificance as her eyes met
his.

She
wondered faintly if there had been some sort of mistake, because
this veritable God before her could hardly be classed as a
middle-aged businessman like she had been led to believe he
was.

He was
tall, lithe, and wonderfully, disturbingly handsome. His chiselled
jaw was strong, the sharpness of which only emphasised the steely
glint to the brilliant green eyes, and high cheekbones. His dark
blonde hair was slightly longer than was fashionable, but that too
only highlighted his rugged appeal.

Something warm and wonderful began to unfurl deep within her.
It was a struggle to keep her eyes off him. Sheer determination
drove her to keep her face as impassive as possible, but she was
helpless to do anything about the faint blush that stole over her
cheeks, or the betraying hand that reached up to self-consciously
poke a stray lock of hair back into place.

She
almost groaned aloud at the faint odour of manure that followed her
when she walked hesitantly across the room. She tried not to move
her skirts too much, but was aware that she fooled neither of them
as she watched his nose twitch.

Thankfully, he was far too much of a gentleman to mention it,
and merely studied her with a rather disconcerted frown on his
handsome face.

In that
moment, she felt wild, unkempt and bedraggled, and thoroughly
embarrassed to be seen in such a state by someone like
him.

“
Come forward.”

The
husky timbre of his voice slid down her spine like warm honey, and
Tilly dutifully shuffled toward his desk before she had even
realised that she had moved.

A part
of her wanted to turn around and leave, while another part of her
wanted to take a seat and stare at him forever.

“
Please, take a seat,” he suggested, and waved an elegant hand
toward one of the two chairs closest to her.

While
she tried to get her mind to focus on anything other than him, she
slid over to the chair and perched tentatively on the edge of the
plush cushion. Her fingers tightened around her bag as she placed
it on her lap. She daren’t put it down because then she would have
nothing to do with her hands except fidget, and she didn’t want him
to know how nervously aware of him she was.

She
could feel his eyes studying her closely, and struggled to find
something suitable to say beneath that heated stare.

Harry
studied her and fought a bitter curse at the timing of Fate. He had
never believed in the folly of serious romantic entanglements,
relationships, or even marriage before now. He was a man who lived
in a man’s world, and was someone who travelled the length and
breadth of the country for his work, and was happy to do so. He
didn’t need roots. He didn’t need commitment. The last thing he had
ever felt that he wanted, or needed in life was a wife, or any kind
of baggage that would slow him down.

However,
he had never set eyes on any woman like this Miss Magdaline Thingy
before. He felt as though someone had just slapped him around the
face. He understood now why Dandridge had eyed her up like a
starving man salivating over a juicy beef joint because he too was
struggling to take his eyes off her.

She was
utterly stunning; from the soft curls that cascaded in a riotous
jumble from the knot on the top of her head, to the tips of her
dainty, mud-encrusted boots, she was by far the most delightfully
intriguing female he had ever come across.

He tried
to focus on the matter at hand, like why she was in his study, he
really did. However, the lure of her lush feminine curves,
emphasised by the confines of the corset she wore, were downright
captivating. He tried not to blatantly stare at her, but he found
that his gaze was drawn back to her again and again.

She
wasn’t slender or skinny. She was curvy; sensual; and utterly
wonderful.

“
You wanted me?” he croaked, and fervently hoped that she
did.

Get your mind on the job,
he warned
himself silently. He gave himself a stern, mental shake in a
desperate attempt to get his mind off what it would be like to kiss
those generously curved lips, and stroke that softly rounded
pink-tinged cheek.

“
Sweet Jesus,” he whispered before he could stop
himself.

“
Pardon?” Tilly asked with a frown.

“
Miss -,” Harry frowned, and tried to remember the name
Dandridge had muttered at him.

“
Matilda Fenton, sir, but everyone calls me Tilly.”

“
Tilly.”

Their
eyes met and held. Tilly felt her cheeks blush even more at the
sound of her name spoken in his rich, cultured tones.

Is it me, or is it hot in here?
She
wondered, and stole a quick look at the fire.

Although
it was cold outside, the contrast in temperatures wasn’t so much
that it should bring her out in a sweat. However, she felt flushed,
and fidgety, and struggled not to squirm on the seat with
discomfort. Rather than remove her cloak though, she remained
perfectly still; trapped beneath the intensity of his
gaze.

“
Miss Fenton.” Harry coughed uncomfortably.
“Tilly.”

He
wondered if he should offer her a drink, or something. However, he
daren’t get up and let her see the evidence of just how delightful
he thought she was. His body ached for her with a fierceness he had
never felt toward anyone before. He sighed deeply in an attempt to
control the lustful thoughts that whirled around in his head, and
tried to focus on why she was here.

Why had
she appeared in his life now, of all times? Where had she been all
of his life?

“
How can I help you?”

“
I am here to take up my duties, sir,” Tilly replied
quietly.

She
watched the man frown at her skirts for a moment. His gaze lingered
on the muddied spots on the lower half of her dress a little too
long for comfort, and she shifted awkwardly.

“
Please forgive the state of me,” she sighed. “There was an
accident at the coaching inn yard, you see, and I got
splashed.”

“
You weren’t injured, I take it?” He growled. The thought of
anyone hurting her annoyed the hell out of him.

She
shook her head, and leaned back in her seat warily at the ferocity
that suddenly appeared on his face.

Good Lord, he is like some warrior God
, she mused on a sigh.

He
fought desperately to keep his mind off the kind of ‘duties’ she
could fulfil, and tried to remember what she had just
said.

He
couldn’t help it; he just had to ask. “What kind of duties are
those?”

Please, Lord, help me,
he prayed. He
felt like a total letch when he read the innocence on her face. She
had absolutely no idea of the mental and physical turmoil she had
just thrown him into. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or
cry.

“
The housekeeping duties, sir. I received your letter and took
the first available post chaise here as instructed.”

“
The housekeeper duties,” he repeated dully.

Surely
to God, Mrs Dandridge hadn’t employed someone to do her job for
her, had she?

A wild
laugh began to bubble, but he ruthlessly quashed it. For one split
second, he wondered if that was why the Dandridges’ didn’t have any
money; they had spent all of their wages paying someone to do their
work for them. However, sanity was soon restored and he quickly
ignored the notion as utterly ridiculous.

While he
studied her, his mind raced frantically to find a way to get rid of
Mrs Dandridge. The only thing that stopped him from dismissing the
awful woman, and her deplorable cooking habits, was the knowledge
that he didn’t want someone as stunningly beautiful as Tilly to
work for him.

Sleep
with him – yes.

Work for
him as his employee – definitely not.

Aware
that Tilly was still waiting for him to answer her, Harry slowly
shook his head.

“
I am afraid that I already have a housekeeper,” he informed
her cautiously.

“
Yes, I know. Me,” Tilly replied somewhat
hesitantly.

She
tried desperately to ignore the faint tremor in her hands, but
couldn’t keep the deep seated worry from beginning to blossom. From
the cautious look on his face, she had the distinct impression that
he had no idea what she was talking about.

“
Can I see the letter you received?” He wondered if she had
the wrong address.

Tilly
dug around in her bag, and handed him the letter with a hand that
shook uncontrollably with a mixture of fear and nerves.

He
smiled at her in an attempt to ease the worry in her eyes. However,
to his consternation, she almost fell back into the chair opposite
as she resumed her seat and slowly, but surely, grew pale and
watchful as the minutes ticked by.

Tension
hovered in the air between them while he carefully opened the
single sheet of parchment and read what was written
there.

His
temper began to build. It wasn’t enough that the neatly penned
letter had been written by a hand that wasn’t his. To his disgust,
someone had forged his signature, poorly, but effectively, on the
bottom of the parchment, and sealed the letter with the Rectory
seal.

“
You received this, when?” He peered at her over the top of
the parchment.

Was she
linked to the Dandridges’? Did they want her in the house as an
extra pair of eyes and ears? Was she a sexual diversion; a way to
getting to know his secrets so they could get their hands on the
money in the safe?

He
scowled at that thought, and felt his annoyance, and
disappointment, grow.

Miss
Matilda Fenton was downright gorgeous, but even he wasn’t about to
be lured into sharing any woman’s bed; even this woman’s bed; while
the Dandridges’ lived under his roof.

He
studied the parchment in his hand again, and tried to remember if
he had ever seen either of the Dandridges’ write. To his
consternation, he couldn’t.

He
leaned back in his chair, and glanced across the desk at
Tilly.

“
Would you do something for me?” he asked, and took a new
sheet of parchment out of the drawer. When she nodded, he dipped
his quill into the pot next to his elbow.

“
Write your name and address on this.” He slid the parchment
and quill across the desk and settled back in his chair.

A low
groan nearly escaped him when she bent over the desk, and the lush
swell of her breasts pushed tantalisingly against the tight bodice
she wore. By the time she had finished writing, he had to wipe a
thin film of sweat off his brow. When she eventually resumed her
seat, he was silently praying that he wouldn’t embarrass
himself.

What the hell? Get your mind on the latest news,
he sternly chastised himself as he tried to keep
his eyes off her very feminine curves.

“
Thank you,” he croaked huskily when she had finished, and
leaned back to compare her handwriting to the writing on the fake
‘offer letter’.

Tilly
had no idea what was going on, but didn’t like the way he studied
the writing on both documents closely. She knew instinctively that
something wasn’t right. From the look of his flushed face, and the
faint tremor in his hand, he was furious about
something.

She
hadn’t said more than a few words to him, so what could he be so
angry about?

She
frowned as she waited for him to speak, and knew instinctively that
she wasn’t going to like what he had to say. Sure enough, when he
spoke, her world crumbled at her feet.

“
I am afraid, Miss Fenton -” he looked up at her frankly, “-
Tilly, that you have been lured here under false pretences. I am
afraid that there is no job.”