The Scarlet Bride by Cheryl Ann Smith Page A

to overcome mycuriosity. I have always wondered about the rooms beyond the kitchen.”
    Simon smiled. “Then we shall continue.” He paused and looked up. “The door is the tallest I’ve ever seen, as if the entry was meant to rival a castle of old. It was part of what drew my interest when I first saw the manor.” The door was actually not one but two panels, which protested loudly on their neglected hinges when he pushed them open. Laura preceded him inside.
    “It is as I remembered.” She smiled wickedly. “I did manage a quick peek of the hall once when my cousin was away.” She ran a gloved finger across a table by the door. “Though the dust is new. My cousin was a tyrant when it came to both his clothes and his home. The kitchen was immaculate and the staff harried. He ran the household with a heavy hand.”
    “The servants were fond of him then?” Simon jested. Her smile lit up the dim entry. He longed to touch the corner of her delightful mouth with a fingertip right before he kissed her soundly. He silently cursed the noble intentions that kept him from acting on his impulse. The last time he’d almost kissed her had ended badly. He’d not frighten her again.
    “Oh, yes,” Laura said. “Immensely. If it wasn’t for the lack of employment opportunities in the area, he’d have had to remove his own spiderwebs from his ceilings.” She looked up to where several spiders had taken up residence in the high crevasses of the two-story space.
    “You said he had no other relatives?” Simon asked.
    “None that I know of,” Laura said. “His mother died when he was young and his father a few years ago. He had no siblings.”
    “Why then did his estate not go to your father? Or you?”
    Laura shrugged and walked farther into the foyer. “Rumor swirled that he’d made some questionable financial transactions and owed money to some powerful men. Whether that is true, I don’t know for certain, but I assumed his estate went to pay his debts.”
    “I did purchase this property from the bank,” Simon said. “It went for far less than it’s worth.”
    She ran her fingertips over a narrow rosewood table and looked at him over her shoulder. “I am pleased the property went to someone who will care for it.”
    Simon moved away from the door and walked over to examine the pair of staircases that led to the second floor. “I made a cursory examination of the manor when I bought the place, but have not looked at the draperies or peered into every nook. I want to see my new home through your eyes.”
    T he dread that Laura had expected when she followed Simon around the manor did not come, in spite of the fact that she’d met the earl on these grounds. No, the fluttering in her stomach came from being alone in this huge manor with Mister Harrington. Simon. The idea of spending the hours ahead with the unsettling man left her uneasy.
    It was becoming difficult to keep her thoughts of this near stranger in check. He occupied her mind more than he should. He was charming and amusing and a bit dangerous. Though he was a gentleman, she knew if he ever crossed paths with the earl, he’d inflict damage on the bastard.
    “Shall we continue?” His voice brought her attention back. She’d been woolgathering quite frequently today.
    “The house is as beautiful as I suspected,” Laura remarked.
    Whether by accident or design, the tour did not include the bedrooms. She wondered if his thoughts had been as inappropriate as hers and he didn’t want to add the temptation of beds to their time together.
    She followed as he led her from room to room, pointing out this rug or that gilt-and-glass candlestick, while her mind was fully elsewhere. Once, she noticed, to her chagrin, that she was staring at his bum when he bent to righta tipped-over vase. She jerked her eyes away, only to dart them back for another quick glance.
    For the first time since their meeting, she freely saw him not as just her rescuer but as a