Page 28 of Rival to Resist
Eliza opened her mouth to respond, but footsteps brought Caroline’s head around.
Mr. Yorke was approaching, a long pole slung across his shoulders, two buckets of water hanging from either end. He had shed his coat and waistcoat, revealing a billowing shirt and a pair of braces.
He smiled.
No wonder he had not been on the road to the cottage. He had beat her here, no doubt hoping to win her over by helping her friend.
“Oh, Mr. Yorke,” Eliza said, hurrying over to him. “You are far too good—and undoubtedly have ruined your back now.”
“Nonsense,” he replied breathlessly as he carefully lowered one bucket to the ground, then the other. “It was an invigorating walk.” He bowed. “Good day, Lady Radcliffe.”
She gave a little nod, her initial annoyance at him giving way to confusion as she looked at her friend. “What of the gate?”
Eliza gave a grimacing smile.
“Has it not been put in?”
Mr. Yorke rolled his broad shoulders as he reached for his waistcoat. “It has not.”
Caroline was momentarily speechless. She had assumed it had been handled. Oswald had said he would see to it, after all. But all this time, Eliza had been making the trip to the stream for her water needs.
“I am so terribly sorry,” Caroline said, her cheeks warming with embarrassment and frustration. “Oswald assured me…” She left the sentence unfinished, for no explanation would change the inconvenience Eliza had been subjected to.
“Do not apologize,” Eliza insisted. “It was very kind of you to broach the matter with him, my lady, and I did not expect anything to come of it.”
“Why not?” Caroline asked, confused by the comment.
Eliza hesitated. “Perhaps he does not wish for me to use the stream.”
“No, no,” Caroline assured her. “He was clear on that matter. It is only that he has much on his mind of late with the election and everything at Wheal Fortune.”
It was an understandable, though unfortunate, blunder. She could not fault Oswald too much, for she should have asked him about the gate to ensure it had been handled. She had been too caught up with her own troubles, and she was not preparing to take on the political burden of Trelowen like Oswald was.
“It must be difficult indeed to find time to devote to such matters,” Mr. Yorke said as he finished the last button on the waistcoat.
Caroline looked at him with a hint of surprise, for she had not expected to find him sympathetic.
“The majority of his life is spent haunting the halls of Trevenna Court, after all.”
Caroline shot him a flat look, but he only smiled incorrigibly—the sort of smile she wanted to kiss from his charming face.
Her body tightened.
Notkiss.
Slap. Or insult.
Yes. She could insult the smile from his charming face.
“Mr. Yorke has come the last three days to transport buckets of water,” Eliza said, smiling gratefully at him.
Caroline regarded him. “That is very kind of you, Mr. Yorke.”
He held her gaze, as though trying to determine whether there was something hidden beneath the words.
There was not. Whether it was done with ulterior motives or not, Caroline was grateful to him for helping her friend.
“It has been my pleasure,” he said with a little acknowledging nod and more calm than charm. Their gazes held for a moment longer.
