Page 161 of Rogue of My Heart

Wide, hazel eyes stared back at her accusingly, because she’d never even let such a thought take root.

Because she feared what the answer would be.

Albina touched a strand of silver near her ear. These days she had been noticing more and more strands threading themselves through her hair, dimming the brilliant copper color of her youth. Her face still retained a smooth complexion, but she could see the signs of time starting to wear grooves near her mouth and eyes. She retained a slightly curvaceous figure, although after three children, the petite size she’d been at nineteen would likely never return.

But all these changes were testament to a life that was lived.

One couldn’t very well do battle without gaining a few scars in the process.

By ten o’clock Albina was on her way downstairs. She crossed paths with the housekeeper in the foyer, who greeted her warmly. “Oh, Lady Beauley! How lovely to have you back in residence at Beauley Hall.”

Albina had to smile. But then, most of the servants she had known so long ago had been more like family. Until now, Albina hadn’t realized how much she’d missed that connection, compared to the stiff, reserved staff she retained at Baine House.

For a moment, she had to blink at what five years had done to the veteran housekeeper. Mrs. Humphrey had been in her fifties when Albina and Michael had gone to London for their daughters’ debut seasons, but even back then, her dark hair was only shot through with bits of silver.

Now, the lighter shade nearly eclipsed all of the color. Her face was heavily lined with wrinkles, the dark contrast of her uniform causing the grooves to appear even deeper than Albina remembered.

But then, she supposed it had been nearly eight years since she’d seen Mrs. Humphrey.

How time changed even the slightest details, including one marked difference to the woman’s attire. “You wear spectacles now?” Albina noted.

The servant chuckled. “I do, my lady, and I fear I would be as blind as a bat without them. I certainly can’t fuss at the housemaids when I can’t tell who it is I’m reprimanding.”

Albina smiled. “Indeed, not.”

“Well, I suppose you’re looking for Lord Beauley.” The housekeeper clasped her hands before her. “He told me to tell you that he would be out for most of the morning. The land steward arrived around dawn to inform him of a drainage issue.”

Albina felt her brows rise. “The viscount personally assists with such matters?”

“Oh, yes, my lady.” Mrs. Humphrey nodded emphatically. “The master is very involved with his tenants. He’s a good man—” She instantly broke off, as if suddenly realizing her error. “But, of course you know that already, my lady,” she added hastily.

“Indeed, he is,” Albina agreed softly.

As the housekeeper walked away, the keys at her waist jingling with her movements, Albina glanced down at her hands. The woman was absolutely right. Michael was a good man, a wonderful man, really. He

* * *

had been a patient father, a considerate lover, and in all their years of marriage, he’d never laid a hand on her in anger or forced unnecessary demands upon her.

A fresh wave of guilt from the night before washed over her, and she vowed that when she saw her husband again, she would make sure to apologize for her harsh words. In light of all his other attributes, a bare room didn’t seem to matter much at all.

With some time on her hands waiting until Michael returned, Albina decided that she would go riding. The sun was bright today, a rarity for England in the spring, so she intended to make the most of it. Not to mention that riding used to be one of her favorite pastimes when she was in residence at the Hall. She enjoyed a light canter in London, but she couldn’t very well give her horse free rein in the city. So after returning upstairs to change into a plum velvet riding habit, she made her way outside and down to the stables.

The stable master was yet another new face to be found at Beauley Hall, but he was a kind, older gentleman who introduced himself as Mr.

Epperson. She liked him instantly. As Albina patted the soft nose of a dapple-gray mare named Lulu, waiting for her to be fitted with a sidesaddle, she struck up a conversation with the stable master.

“How long have you been working for the viscount, Mr. Epperson?”

she asked curiously.

He thought for a moment. “I would say about three years now, my lady. It’s the best position that I’ve ever had.”

“Is it?”

“Oh, yes.” He nodded. “Anyone that works for the viscount is thankful for the employment. He’s fair and kind, and the only place I know of where we get an entire Sunday off to be with our families.”

Albina felt a thoughtful frown form between her brows, and the guilt of her behavior the night before rose another notch. “That is rather charitable of him.”