Drops of Gold by Sarah M. Eden

Author:Sarah M. Eden
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Covenant Communications Inc.
Published: 2012-12-31T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

The Earl of Lampton was a dandy but a harmless one. Marion had come to that conclusion before the first course of Caroline’s dinner last night. He had a knack for saying vastly conceited things without sounding the least bit arrogant. Marion hadn’t laughed so much during a meal since the time Robert had spent an entire dinner hour in a perpetual state of giggles. He had been nine at the time; she’d been six. It remained one of her favorite memories.

Marion sighed quietly to herself, missing her brother. It had been almost a year. How much had happened in those few months.

“Disappointed?”

She looked up at Mr. Jonquil. How long had he been standing there? As always, her heart rate picked up at the sight of him. She knew from hours’ worth of self-reflection that she was half in love with him.

And why shouldn’t she be? Marion watched him from where she was sitting near the fireplace. He was a little rumpled after putting Caroline to bed, but if anything, he looked more handsome. And he was smiling. No one could blame her for melting under the power of that smile.

“I am sorry we had to postpone your birthday celebration,” Mr. Jonquil said.

Marion shrugged. “Caroline was all but asleep. I think she’s had a few too many excitements these past few days. What with having her family here for her birthday yesterday.”

“They can be a bit much,” Mr. Jonquil said. “I hope you weren’t overwhelmed, Miss Wood.”

“Not at all.” Marion smiled up at him, setting aside the dress she hoped to complete before the earl’s upcoming wedding. “Not even an earl can intimidate a Right Honorable Governess.”

Mr. Jonquil let an almighty laugh escape before checking himself with a guilty glance toward Caroline’s bedchamber. “I hope I didn’t wake her.”

“So do I,” Marion said dryly. “I’ll be up with her if you have.”

Mr. Jonquil smiled vaguely but didn’t speak. His gaze wandered around the room but inevitably slid back to her. “Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday, Mary?” he asked quietly, his eyes once again avoiding hers. “I would have liked to . . .” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Did you have a good birthday? All things considered?”

“I did, sir.” She wanted to reach out and take his hand but held herself in check.

“No, Mary.” He turned back to her in an instant. “Not ‘sir.’ Not when it’s just me here.”

“But it wouldn’t be—”

“I just . . . I need . . . I need you to be a . . . friend, Mary. Someone I can . . . Someone to talk to.” Mr. Jonquil paced in a tight circle, obviously uncomfortable and noticeably in earnest. “Not ‘Mr. Jonquil.’ Not ‘sir.’”

“Should I call you ‘guv’nuh,’ then?”

Mr. Jonquil smiled again, precisely as she’d hoped he would. “‘Layton’ would be fine, would be splendid, actually.”

“Oh, I couldn’t—”

“Just for now,” he quickly explained. “I . . . I’ll . . . I’ll understand if you can’t . . .

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