To Mend a Dream by Tamera Alexander

Author:Tamera Alexander
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
Published: 2015-04-30T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

SAVANNAH LOOKED UP, HAVING NO NEED TO WONDER IF HER face was flushed. “Good afternoon, Mr. Bedford! How are you, sir?” And why on earth was the man home from work so early?

Still in his suit, and looking quite the successful young attorney, he tilted his head as though to better match the angle of hers. “I’m well, Miss Anderson. Question is . . . how are you?”

“Fine. Other than my measuring tape having gone for a little stroll.”

“Oh, please, allow me.” He crossed the room and knelt, facing her, then reached beneath the wardrobe. Just as swiftly, he grimaced and pulled his hand back out.

Savannah winced. “A spider?”

He shook his head, then grinned. “A joke.” He reached beneath the wardrobe again and a second later dropped the measuring tape safely into her palm.

Savannah laughed, finding his humor a little off center. And liking it.

He offered his assistance as she stood. His hand was warm and strong. And spoken for. Startled by the thought, she tucked the measuring tape into the pocket of her skirt and her hand along with it. Then she realized . . .

She’d never had a man visit her room before. At least not one who wasn’t a family member. It felt a little . . . impolitic. Especially when all she could think about at the moment was how striking Aidan Bedford was. With his dark hair cropped close, just above the collar, and his jaw closely shaven yet showing signs of tomorrow’s beard, he had an air of sophistication about him. Some might even say arrogance. Which fit with what she knew of Northerners.

Yet he seemed polite enough and had a perceptiveness about him that must certainly aid his profession. An attorney-at-law, the man was no doubt good at what he did.

Which, thinking of what she’d just been doing, only intensified her unease.

His gaze moved about the room, briefly catching on the nightgown before he looked back at her. His expression sobered. “May I ask, Miss Anderson, what you’re doing in this room?”

She eyed him. “I’m measuring for draperies and carpeting, sir.”

His eyes narrowed. “I was under the impression that my bedroom was the only room receiving alterations on this floor.”

She opened her mouth, then quickly closed it. It wouldn’t be the first time a wife—or almost wife—had been caught redecorating a bit more than she’d admitted to her husband. Which made her wonder if Miss Sinclair had told him yet about the stonemason or the marble fountain to be situated in the front courtyard. Once the courtyard was designed and built.

Mr. Bedford smiled. “I’m sorry, Miss Anderson. Please forgive the statement. It’s clear you’re only doing as you were instructed.”

“Thank you, sir.” Seeing the tension behind his eyes, she heard it in his voice, too, which prodded her uncertainty. She might have been tempted to let it pass if not for the order she’d told Mrs. Hildegard to place for fabric last Friday. An order worth several hundred dollars. Savannah felt sick inside.

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