Rapture in His Arms by Lynette Vinet Page A

flour.
    “Aye, I see, but ’tis an important matter we need to discuss.”
    Jillian knew it wouldn’t do any good to protest. Edwin needed to speak to her, and apparently he had made up his mind that she’d join him, for already he was walking back to the house. Wiping her hands on her apron, Jillian then took off the apron and laid it upon the wooden bench by the table. She hoped Edwin wouldn’t take too long; the oven was already hot, but she trusted Daisy, the cook, to finish the baking without her.
    When she entered Edwin’s library a few minutes later she was astonished to see Donovan sitting before Edwin’s desk, almost as if the man had a business appointment with her husband. The man politely rose to his feet at the sight of her, Jillian’s face colored bright red, and she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Since he’d kissed her by the river almost four days ago, Jillian hadn’t seen Donovan. In fact, she’d gone out of her way not to see him. If she knew he had business to discuss with Edwin, she absented herself from the house or kept to her own room. She wondered what he was doing here now, and why Edwin had summoned her.
    Edwin kindly gestured to the chair next to Donovan’s. She’d have refused, but there was no alternative but to sit beside him or look like a fool for refusing. Donovan nervously cleared his throat and said to her, “Mornin’ ma’am,” as he sat down. She responded in turn, but she croaked out her words, horribly nervous, and clutched the material of her gown with her perspiring palms. Edwin, she noted, looked nervous, too. He absently pulled at the chain on his watch fob, and Jillian noticed a muscle twitched near his right eye. “I wanted to speak to you both,” Edwin began with a shy, almost awkward, smile on his face. “What I have to say is important to all of us.”
    “Is there trouble, Mr. Cameron?” asked Donovan worriedly. “Have I done somethin’ not pleasin’ to ye in me work?”
    “Nothing like that, lad, I assure you. Your work for me has been excellent. ’Tis proud I am to have you working for me.” Donovan visibly relaxed at Edwin’s comment, but Jillian tensed. She sensed something was wrong, and it had to do with her and Donovan, otherwise, why would Edwin have asked to speak to them together. Did Edwin know what had transpired between them on the river bank? A chill rushed over her. Please, God, don’t let him know, she prayed. The last thing she wished to do was to hurt Edwin.
    Edwin tightly clasped his fingers together and placed his hands on top of his desk. He leaned forward in his chair. Jillian noted that his eyes gleamed brightly. “I—I don’t know how to say this,” he sheepishly confessed. “’Tis hard to speak the words.” He grew pensive for a moment, and Jillian thought that he was reconsidering whatever it was he meant to say. But then he looked straight at her with such sadness that she felt as if a cruel hand twisted her heart. He knows!—she thought and trembled. So it came as no surprise when he said, “I saw the two of you by the river bank a few days ago.”
    “Oh—Edwin!” she cried and bowed her head. “Oh, Edwin, forgive—”
    “Hush, Jillian! I want no pleas of forgiveness from you,” Edwin assured her in a gentle tone. “’Tis not what I want from either of you.”
    Donovan remained motionless for a number of moments before he twisted in the chair and threw his arm across the back. “What is it that you be wantin’, sir?”
    Edwin smiled. “That’s what I like about you, lad. You’re a no-nonsense, come-to-the-point, sort of fellow. So, I’ll be the same with you. I don’t hold ill feelings for what happened between the two of you. If the truth be known, I’m glad it happened because I planned for it to happen.”
    Jillian lifted her head, bafflement on her face. “Edwin, what are you saying?”
    “Ah, my dear, I’m saying a great deal, much more than you realize, but you know I always