“You have worked wonders, Aunt.”
“As you suggested, we are conquering the house room by room. It has helped that Kate started hiring staff from London—Lady Katharine Wilde is my other niece by marriage,” Isabella explained to Rachel before addressing Hawk again. “A good number of the furnishings are long out of fashion, my lord. It may cost you a pretty penny to replace them, but I shall take pleasure in diminishing your purse,” she teased in the bantering way of a long friendship.
Hawk did not immediately respond, for he seemed to be occupied in listening intently. Just then Skye became aware of the faint din in the distance—a din that sounded like hammering and pounding.
“The reconstruction has begun?” Hawk asked Bella.
“Not quite yet. The damaged rooms in the east wing have been razed and much of the debris hauled away. Your architect, Mr. Beald, wishes to meet with you at your earliest convenience.”
“Now is a good time. If you will pray excuse me, ladies …”
When Hawk rose from his chair and made for the door, Skye hurried to follow and caught him before he could leave the drawing room.
“Where are you going?”
“To confer with Beald and inspect the renovations thus far.”
“May I come with you?” she asked, not wanting him to face the demolished wing alone.
He hesitated. “If I deny my permission, will you make a pest of yourself and tag along anyway?”
“Yes, of course.”
The faint hint of exasperation reappeared, which relieved Skye, as did his rather mild command. “Come, then.”
He led the way outside to the rear of the castle. Work had progressed significantly on the damaged wing, Skye saw at once. A gaping hole stood at the end of the east wing, and most of the evidence of the fire was gone.
The architect’s crews were scurrying here and there, filling wagons with debris from the wreckage, just as Bella had said. Judging by the virtual army of workers, Skye suspected Hawk was paying a fortune for speed so he could bring his new bride home as soon as possible.
A muscle worked in Hawk’s jaw, but otherwise his response was indiscernible. Skye felt his homecoming could have been much worse, though. The air of neglect and hopelessness about the castle seemed somehow diminished.
Perhaps it was partly due to the bustling atmosphere. The sun would set soon, and the laborers seemed to be striving for as much progress as possible before dusk. Or perhaps the change was due to the season and clement weather. It was a clear, crisp autumn day, and the gold and red colors of the surrounding landscape added to the pleasant aura.
Skye was immensely glad for the fair weather. Sunshine made everything brighter, and if the storms would retreat for the moment, her dreams would be more peaceful, even if Hawk would not be sleeping beside her to comfort her.
She hoped Hawk’s sleep would be helped as well. He seemed to divine what she was thinking, for he drawled in a wry voice, “I won’t be driven to drink or start throwing brandy decanters, if that is what worries you.”
Skye smiled in relief. “In truth, it does worry me.”
“Then you may stop watching me so intently. You are scrutinizing me as if I might erupt at any moment.”
Actually she was more concerned that Hawk would hold all his bitterness and grief and anger inside. But rather than argue that eruptions could be healing, she noted that a tall, thin man was walking across the courtyard toward them.
When Hawk introduced him to Skye as a renowned architect, Mr. Nathanial Beald hastened to give a report.
“My lord, I am pleased to say that we are slightly ahead of schedule. The next step is to erect wooden scaffolding to begin rebuilding. And as we discussed, we will reuse the stone to make the exterior of this wing appear to match the rest.…”
Skye was glad to discover that the renovations would take perhaps five or six more months to complete, but the interval would do little to prevent or even delay Hawk’s expected courtship. He could still take Miss Olwen for his bride, even if he had no splendid estate to offer his countess yet.
But for just now, Skye was content that Hawk would be occupied and his dark memories overshadowed by this new purpose.
She left him conferring with the architect and poring over blueprints, and made her way back to the house. She wanted to give her aunt and Rachel time to become acquainted. Thus, rather than return to the drawing room, Skye stopped by the kitc
hens and spoke to the cook about dinner: where to hold it and what to prepare. Then she went to her own room to change her attire for dinner.
Isabella, bless her, had brought a trunkful of gowns, but Skye chose a simple blue kerseymere dress in deference to Rachel’s lack of formal attire.
She was repinning her hair in a knot at her nape when Isabella knocked lightly and entered at Skye’s invitation.