Secret Hearts Read Online Free Page B

broadly
as he headed to the sideboard and began heaping his plate with food.
“Sorry to startle you, Miss Montague. Didn’t know anyone would miss
it.”
           Didn’t
know anyone would miss it? Good heavens, Claire loved that mustache.
She’d written about it endlessly. Depending on the circumstances her
hero faced, that dashing mustache of his bristled or drooped or lifted
or dripped or sparkled with ice crystals in winter. Claire swallowed
hard. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Partington. How foolish you must think
me.” She tried to laugh, but a laugh wouldn’t come. He’d shaved
off his mustache. Claire could hardly stand it.
    # # #
           As
breakfast progressed, however, Claire, who kept shooting surreptitious
peeks at Tom’s face, decided her world might not be over yet. In truth,
his mouth, which was a work of art in itself, actually looked quite
good without the frame of its famous mustache. In fact, Claire discovered
herself staring in a most unbecoming manner at his lips. She frowned
and tore her gaze away. There was her low breeding again, exhibiting
itself in an indelicate way just when she least expected it.
           Well,
she’d overcome her background before, and she could continue to do
so. Claire told herself to stop being foolish and concentrate on efficiency.
Efficiency is what Mr. Partington expected of her, and efficiency she
would give him.
           “Mr.
Silver will be arriving at ten, Mr. Partington.” She took a bite of
ham, although she really was too nervous to be hungry. Merely being
in the same room with this man, this ideal of her heart, made her stomach
flutter.
           His
spectacular blue eyes sparkled at her from across the table. His mustache,
Claire thought with a pang, would have drooped just enough to give him
the air of an antebellum Southern gentleman getting ready to ride to
hounds. Somewhat grudgingly, she decided he carried the air off rather
well even without the mustache. Also, his broad shoulders filled the
master’s chair much more fully than had his uncle’s. Claire decided
maybe she didn’t miss his mustache too much after all. She tried not
to stare.
           The
breakfast room was much more intimate a chamber than the dining room.
It had the capacity to seat only twelve people easily. This morning,
with her senses completely overwrought, Claire would have felt more
comfortable with twenty feet of mahogany between herself and her new
employer, especially since she’d already managed to make a complete
fool of herself before the day had barely begun.
           “I’m
looking forward to meeting him, Miss Montague. I have all sorts of questions
to ask.”
           “I’m
sure you will find him very forthcoming, Mr. Partington. The late Mr.
Partington said he’d found a treasure in Jedediah Silver.”
           “I’m
certain he said the same of his housekeeper,” Tom offered gallantly,
making Claire blush like a schoolgirl.
           She
sputtered something incomprehensible and felt like an idiot. What a
noble soul he was, to say such a thing after her behavior only minutes
earlier! Claire guessed she could survive without his mustache so much
after all.
           He
continued, “After breakfast, perhaps you’d do me the kindness of
showing me the estate grounds. I know you don’t have much to do with
the farm, but you mentioned gardens. I’ve always wanted a garden.”
           Tom
took a sip of coffee. Gordon Partington had imported his coffee from
Jamaica, and it was generally considered excellent. Tom seemed to like
it, for which Claire was glad.
           It
surprised her to detect the note of unalloyed excitement in her new
employer’s demeanor. She’d have expected such a well-traveled, heroic
man of the world to be used to grand estates and elegant appointments.
           Nevertheless,
she met his smile with one of her