Secluded with the Rogue

Chapter 2

Two

M r. Andrew Wentworth walked in the front door of Wentworth House and breathed a sigh of relief.

Finally, some space and perhaps a little quiet. After nearly three months of traveling, two of which were spent on a ship as he sailed to the Caribbean and back, with an extra stop or two along the way. Drew finally had some space to move around, which pleased him to no end. No people crammed on a ship cheek-by-jowl. No one constantly seeking his approval of something or a decision from him. Even once he had arrived in Jamaica, and after when he had returned to London, the port cities had been teeming with people. Now he stood in the grand entry of his home and soaked in the blessed silence.

Of course, it was short-lived.

As he stood there soaking up the quiet, he heard the tap-tap-tap of a woman's shoes. Since his mother had passed away three years before and ten years after his father, he knew it was most likely going to be Mrs. Polly Addison or one of the housemaids. Please God, let it be a housemaid, someone he could more effectively send away.

No such luck.

A squeal ripped through the air as the patter of the woman's feet picked up nearly into a run. “Andrew, you're home!”

Polly had been a surrogate mother to him. After his father died, his mother had gone into a decline. It was really quite amazing she had lasted as long as she did after her husband’s unexpected passing, but she had been heartbroken when his ship sank. Polly had taken over the house—the family home, really—and helped Drew through all the loss as a young man of two and twenty. She had held him and his home together as Drew tried to hold his father's shipping business together.

It had been a struggle. Many believed he was too young to take over Wentworth Shipping, and they had been down to one ship after his father's death on the only other ship the company owned—but he had known he could build the company into so much more. He'd watched his father since he was a boy, and had a myriad of ideas which he had presented to his father. But, as is often the case, his ideas had been dismissed as too risky or as not how things were done.

Suddenly, Drew was in charge. So, he set about doing the things he had wanted his father to try.

He smiled at the petite cook and housekeeper. She was whipcord lean and ran the household staff rather like a good first mate. “Polly! It's good to see you. I’ve just arrived home.”

She hugged him tightly then stepped back to peer sternly at him. “You did not send word ahead of your arrival. Again.” Her look of disapproval said far more than her words alone could have.

Drew couldn't help the heat that simmered in his cheeks. How precisely did she reduce him to a child of eight? “I know, Polly. But honestly, I disembarked from the ship and came straight home. I would have arrived at the same time as any messenger I sent.”

The woman snorted. “It's not as if there aren't modern ways of sending messages. We have a telegraph station in the village, you know.”

Drew grinned cheekily. “I didn't want to take the time to stop so I could get home all the sooner to you, my sweet Polly.”

She guffawed at his audacity. “Such rubbish!”

“Who's in here saying such sweet things to my wife? Has Casanova come to steal her away?” A booming voice demanded as the man it belonged to joined them.

Drew laughed. “It's just me, Billy. There's no Casanova trying to steal your wife.”

He hugged the man who had been married a good twelve years to Polly, and slapped him on the back in greeting. William Addison had been with his family since he was a boy. As the Stable Master’s son, he’d worked his way up as a stableboy and then a stable hand until he’d taken over as the stable master when his father had retired. Billy was a year older than Drew, but they had been friends growing up. Between their long-standing friendship and the fact the man was the reason the amazing Polly had come to live there, he could do no wrong in Drew's eyes.

“Welcome home, Mr. Wentworth,” Billy grinned as Drew chaffed at the formality.

“I'll wrangle some footmen to bring in your trunks.” Polly turned to bustle off.

The next he knew, servants were streaming into the entry hall. Drew turned back to the stable master. “Anything urgent I should know from the stables, Billy?”

“Nothing that can't wait. Get settled in and you can come find me later to talk about the horses,” Billy said. “I’ll have Polly send you up some supper.”

“That sounds excellent.” Drew turned to head up to his bedchamber.

T he next morning, Drew wandered downstairs and ordered breakfast to be delivered to his study. He tried to go through the months of correspondence that his steward had left on his desk, but the first interruption was the delivery of his breakfast.

Polly swept into the room, pushing a rolling cart of food. “Good morning, Drew.” She stopped short near the sofa. “Surely you don't mean to eat your breakfast at your desk?”

“That is precisely what I mean to do.” Drew let one brow drift up as he eyed the food.

“That is most uncivilized.” Her face was a picture, and it featured that mulish expression she often displayed when she disagreed with something he did.

“It is perfectly civilized. Industrious men around the globe do precisely this. Only nobles and ungodly wealthy men have the luxury of lounging over breakfast.”

“It's bad for the digestion. Now get up and come over here to eat. You can use the cart as a table.” She left the cart where it was and came over to bully him out of his seat and over to the sofa.

Drew sighed in defeat and gave in, moving over to the sofa where she then pushed the cart into place so he could have a civilized breakfast.

After he ate, he had managed to fall into a pleasant rhythm with his correspondence when the next interruption came.

James, his butler, knocked. “Pardon the interruption, Mr. Wentworth, but with you gone the last few months, we had put many of the rooms to bed under sheets. Would you like to have the drawing room, the music room, the morning room, and the ballroom woken up?”

Drew sighed. He hardly used any of those rooms. “Open the morning room and the drawing room only.” He looked back down at the letter he was reading.

“Apologies, sir, but the guest bedchambers?” James asked.

Drew closed his eyes for a moment and reminded himself the man was simply doing the job he paid him to do. He would get through his letters eventually. “I am not expecting anyone at the moment. Perhaps have one opened up just in case anyone arrives unexpectedly. I wouldn't put it past Freddie to visit once he hears I am back.”

“Very good, sir.” James bowed and left the room.

Drew was just getting back into his work when Billy appeared, wanting to talk about the horses, so he set the papers aside and listened to his ideas on expanding the stables and rotating the studs for breeding. An hour later, he was finally alone again when a maid poked her head in to clean the fireplace and lay some fresh coals. He tried very hard to ignore her presence since he didn't recognize the girl, but she turned out to be a chatty little thing. She had all kinds of questions about sailing and the ocean. By the time she left, Drew was at his wit's end.

That was why, when Polly appeared once again, Drew glared at her. “How bloody hard is it for a man to get some peace and quiet in his own home? I've been away for three months with people constantly underfoot on board the ship and I think I had fewer interruptions in a day then than I have had today.”

“What do you expect? You said it yourself, you've been away for three months. There are plenty of decisions to be made now that you are back.” Polly put her hands on her hips and glared right back at him. “Now, I came in here to warn you that the weather has taken a turn. It's starting to snow, and I don't think it's going to be a light dusting either.”

“It has?” Drew turned around and actually looked at the window at his back.

Polly was quite correct. It was gray and blustery outside, and the wind was whipping as small flakes fell to dust the ground. He had to admit that while the chatterbox had played on his last nerve, the room was considerably warmer than it had been when she started the fire for him.

Drew grinned as he turned back around. This was one of the benefits of having the house staffed by villagers instead of live-in help. “You're right, Polly. It is snowing. Send everyone home for the day and tell them not to return until the snow has passed.”

“I understand, sir, it's for the best if they are all with their families when the snow comes in heavy. And it is coming.” She reached down and rubbed her knee as if in confirmation. “Now, what would you like for luncheon?”

“Some kind of sandwich will do.” He waved her off and turned back to his papers, satisfied that he wouldn't be disturbed again except for food. His steward had been very busy in his absence, and it seemed there was a mountain of papers still to work through. Surely nothing else would disturb him today…