Liz could have stayed in his arms for hours if she hadn’t felt a drop of rain on the back of her hand.
William’s chest rose and fell as she felt his soft sigh across her scalp. “It’s going to come down heavy, I can tell. We’d better get inside before we’re completely drenched.”
Despite the dark storm clouds rolling across the valley, she heard a hint of reluctance in his tone. Liz stepped back, wondering whether her eyes were still red. She couldn’t hold back the blush when she noticed a damp patch on his shirt where her tears had soaked through. “Yes, of course. I have some work to do.”
“No you don’t. Not today, at least.”
“But, I—”
“No. Whatever you’re working on, it can wait until tomorrow.” He cast a glance at the growing darkness above them as the rain began to fall harder. “Come on, let’s go.”
Grabbing her hand he pulled her along, running to avoid the worst of the downpour. William pushed open the heavy doors, surprising Mr. Reynolds as they burst into the entrance hall.
The heel of Liz’s wet shoe slipped on the smooth marble and she would have ended up on her back if William hadn’t caught her in time. His quick reflexes knocked the air from her lungs, leaving her literally breathless.
Fate seemed determined to get her into his arms one way or the other.
He held her there as their eyes met, then William began to laugh. “Falling for me, Lizzy?”
She paused before answering, trying to read between the double meaning as her heart fluttered. “No, of course not.”
He set her on her feet again before sending Mr. Reynolds for towels. After helping Liz to remove her coat he shrugged out of his jacket, draping it over a nearby chair. When the towels arrived she dried her hair before following him into the salon.
A log fire burned in the hearth, sending a flickering orange glow across the room. Liz looked at the chairs arranged in a loose semi-circle. A couple of them were too far from the warmth to interest her. She assumed William would sit in the worn high-back armchair, so she sank onto one end of a settee on the opposite side of the fire, nearer to the window.
The rain now battered against the glass and Liz thanked her stars they hadn’t gone further from the house. They would have been soaked through in minutes. She would have needed more than a towel for her hair then. Her gaze drifted across the salon to the door, where William spoke to Mr. Reynolds. The butler nodded once and left.
Despite being larger than her whole flat, the salon still felt cosy regardless of the weather outside. As her gaze travelled around the room Liz spotted a side table by the wall covered in black and white photographs of children. Thinking they must be Bingley children from earlier generations, she wondered whether pictures of a young William were included in the group.
He came to join her then, choosing to sit at the opposite end of the settee. He faced her, his leg bent on the cushion, resting his elbow against the back of the chair. “Feel better now?” he said, running his fingers through his still damp hair.
Liz nodded. She did feel better, as though she’d unburdened herself of a guilt she hadn’t realised she’d been carrying. It had felt good to talk about her father. Even mentioning his name had been taboo for far too long.
They remained in the salon for hours, covering every subject from politics and sport to art and music. Mr. Reynolds served them creamy hot chocolate, closing the curtains when the light began to fade. When William slipped in an innocuous question about her mother, Liz answered it, and then found herself documenting almost every moment of her childhood she could remember. From school sports days to favourite birthday presents, William seemed curious about each of her memories.
It took a while before she realised the subject had once again moved to her father, as he encouraged her to remember the happy times they had shared before Amanda had come along to spoil things.
When her stomach began to rumble William rang the bell, ordering dinner for them both. Liz and William moved across to the south parlour, their conversation changing from childhood tales to school meals and favourite foods.
They remained at the table long after they’d finished and no one was more surprised than Liz when the clock struck ten. They’d spent all day together and she hadn’t done a minute’s research. Despite that, she couldn’t regret the lost opportunity. “I really should be going to bed. I have a full day’s work to catch up on in the morning.”
William sat back in his chair, spinning the stem of his wine glass between his fingers. “Those dusty old books have been there a long time. They won’t disappear overnight, you know.”
“They might not, but I only have two more days here.”
“You could stay longer.”
Liz considered that idea for a second but knew she had to refuse, no matter how tempted she might be. “I’m sorry but I can’t. My friend needs her car back on Saturday.”
When she got up from the table he stood too. “If you don’t get everything done by Friday, you’re more than welcome to return.”
“I appreciate the offer. Perhaps I will.”
William moved closer, his fingers trailing along the back of the chair she’d just vacated. “And I’m free tomorrow if you need an assistant.” His dark eyes met hers and he grinned. “You know, someone to fetch the tea and lift things down from the top shelves. I’ll do as I’m told, I promise.”
She stroked her chin, pretending to consider his plan. “Well, they do say two heads are better than one, and I have missed a day. Okay, it’s a deal.” Liz held out her hand.
Instead of shaking hands William lifted it to his lips, brushing a kiss across the back of her fingers. “I’ll see you in the morning then.”
Ignoring the rapid beating of her heart, Liz wished him a quick goodnight and left the room, almost running across the hall and up the stairs.
* * * * *
Early the next morning Liz lay in bed with her eyes closed, willing herself back to sleep. She reached out to her dream, wanting to sink back into it, like settling into a warm bubble bath. This time there had been no unsettling premonitions, just the usual ordering of her memories.
As though filing away the previous day’s events, her subconscious had assessed William’s movements and mannerisms, exulting at each lingering touch or comforting stroke. She wondered if he’d been aware of the kiss he’d placed on the top of her head. Perhaps it had been an unconscious gesture on his part. She couldn’t afford to read anything into his behaviour. He might have done the same for a three year old who’d skinned her knee.
Liz smiled at that thought, imagining how good he would be with children.
No, it was no use. She wasn’t tired enough to fall back to sleep and her brain was too full of William to think about anything else.
He’d asked her to stay over the weekend. Granted, he’d meant she could work on her project for two extra days but the thought had been there. She’d been so tempted to take him up on his offer and had considered phoning Natalie to ask if she might return her car on Sunday instead of Saturday as she’d promised.
Liz rolled over, burying her face in the pillow. No, she needed to leave on Friday night for the sake of her sanity. Even here and now, if she breathed in deeply, his scent permeated her pillow as though he’d been there with her.
He hadn’t, unfortunately, but being so close to him yesterday had left his mark on her.
When she arrived in the office later she found William waiting for her, his hair damp and his legs propped on the table as he flicked through an old book. When he saw her, he smiled.
Ignoring the way his smile made her heart sing, she dropped her notepad on the other desk. “Have you been waiting long?”
“No, not long. I took Romulus for a ride this morning then had a shower, so I missed breakfast.” He tossed the book on the desk and stood up. “So, what can I do?”
She could have answered his question in so many different ways, but she chose the most innocent. “I’m trying to identify and record all the minor improvements made to the structure of the house since its last major redevelopment.”
“You might think this a stupid question, but why?”
Liz shrugged. Few people understood her fascination with old buildings. “The best evidence showing how houses change and adapt over time can be found in those properties that have remained as private homes, because they tend to be the least altered and best recorded.” She moved a stack of dusty boxes across to his table. “These are some of the receipts for work carried out on the property. They mainly cover the early twentieth century. The older ones are still in the strong room. Perhaps you can help me with those later?”
“I can get them now if you’d like.” He walked across the room and dialled the combination. The heavy door swung open just wide enough for William to walk through. He flicked the light-switch on the outside wall as he passed. “I haven’t been in here for ages. Where are the boxes?”
Liz squinted up at the higher shelves, trying to spot the records she’d identified on Tuesday. The feeble light from the forty watt bulb barely penetrated the gloom. “Those there I think.” She pointed to a clump of sagging brown cardboard.
As William stretched up for the boxes, Liz stared at the muscles moving across his shoulders, highlighted by his clinging white t-shirt. His posture had been one of the first things that had impressed her. Unlike many tall men these days, William didn’t slouch.
“Liz?” He still held the box in his hands, but he’d turned his questioning eyes towards her.
“Yes?”
When he smiled she suspected he was repeating himself again. Concentration was a definite problem when he was nearby. “Where would you like it?”
“Oh, on the table, please.”
He carried the box out to the office, placing it carefully on her desk before settling down to look through the pile of papers she’d given him. “You know, the steward’s day book recorded all activity in the house, including repairs and alterations.”
“Yes, but that information isn’t enough on its own. There are no costs listed in the day book and they don’t specify the work in any detail. A combination of the steward’s summary and the receipts will give a better overall picture.” Liz raised her eyes from the page to glance across the room, listening to William hum something classical as he worked. “Enjoying yourself?”
“I am, actually. I spent quite a bit of time in here when I was younger. The steward employed at the time had the patience of a saint and was happy to assuage my curiosity during school holidays.”
“And were you a very curious child?”
William looked up and caught her glance, holding it. “Always.”
Liz released a sigh as she dragged her attention back to the work in hand. The next few hours continued in much the same vein. She would find herself watching William work, without realising her eyes had strayed. Sometimes he remained oblivious to her stares but on more than one occasion their gazes snagged like tangled fishing lines and she found it almost impossible to pull away.
Sometime later William sat back in his chair, stretching his arms. “As much as I would love to stay longer I do have a little work of my own to do upstairs.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have dumped all this on you.”
“I didn’t mind at all, in fact I quite enjoyed working in here. We’ll have to do it again sometime.” As he passed her desk William reached out his hand to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly across her cheekbone.
Liz felt the heat flare in her face as her breath caught in her throat.
“It’s a dirty job,” he whispered, wiping something from her face, “but I suppose someone has to do it.” Letting her go, he slipped the hand into his pocket.
Embarrassed by the nervous giggle that escaped from her lips, Liz covered her face with her palms. “Am I very dusty?”
“No…no, it’s nothing. I probably wouldn’t have noticed if I wasn’t looking.” A fleeting smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I’ll be back later.”
Dropping down into her chair, Liz tried to calm her ragged breathing. Her brain always turned to mush whenever he came close. It was embarrassing that something as simple as wiping dirt from her face could send her melting into a puddle.
Liz took in another exaggerated breath, holding it for a moment before letting it out. There had to be a way of spending time in William’s company without making a complete fool of herself.