“Alice, what are you doing here?” Her father stood in the doorway to the library.
She jumped up from her chair. “I am acting as—” she gave a little bow “—Mr. Tennent’s secretary.”
Her father pursed his lips, his eyes going from her to Mr. Tennent and back again, making her feel as if she’d done something wrong. “That is not amusing.”
“Of course it isn’t. Mr. Tennent is injured, and I feel partially responsible. As such, it is only right that I assist him while his injury heals.”
“Mr. Shepard—” Mr. Tennent stood rigid, and her heart went out to him, having to work for her father.
Her father advanced into the small room, cutting him off. “So, you are unable to write?”
“I—” He cleared his throat and began again. “In a few days, perhaps—”
Did Father inspire such fear in all his employees? “Dr. Baird gave clear instructions that Mr. Tennent is to do nothing to put undue pressure on his collarbone for a few weeks. He mustn’t bend his arm in a way that will aggravate the bone.”
Her father had turned his attention back to her halfway through her speech. “In that case, I shall have to summon Mr. Simpson.”
She gave a disbelieving laugh at the mention of Father’s old secretary. “Mr. Simpson is getting forgetful, you said so yourself. We are making splendid progress.” She took up the papers she’d completed and handed them to him.
He took them without a word and examined them.
Mr. Tennent cleared his throat. “Mr. Shepard, I assure you, in a few days, I’m sure I can manage on my own.”
Her father handed the papers back to his secretary. “Very well. In the meantime I have to return to London. I shall determine things upon my return.” He turned to her. “I don’t want you making a nuisance of yourself here.”
“I shan’t be a nuisance.”
“Nevertheless, I prefer you not spend your time here, Alice.”
She pressed her lips together, knowing it was useless to argue with her father and knowing just as certainly that this was one command she was going to disobey.
Chapter Four
The next few days were like a little bit of heaven to Nick. Despite the pain in his collarbone and ribs, coupled with the inconvenience of wearing a sling, he had never enjoyed such a time in his life. He felt as if he was living an interlude where all the best things were combined: work he enjoyed with a helper he was coming to admire more and more each day, carried out in the most agreeable surroundings he’d ever known in his life.
Her father’s prohibition notwithstanding, Miss Shepard appeared in Nick’s little office every morning promptly at half-past eight and didn’t move from her chair until he gave in and let her help him with any writing he needed done.
He realized now, looking at her bent head, that working had never been so lighthearted. For despite making progress on the reports he had to write, the hours seemed to fly by and many moments were spent in laughter as Miss Shepard found something amusing in what they were doing or reading.
He eased the kinks out of his neck then stopped short at the shot of pain to his collarbone. Dr. Baird had not exaggerated when he’d warned Nick it would take some weeks before he was fully healed.
“Are you all right?”
He looked over to find Miss Shepard’s eyes on him. “Yes, I’m all right.” He’d also never had anyone as solicitous as she, seeming to anticipate his every need and be aware of every twinge of discomfort he experienced.
She laid her pencil and pad on her lap. “You should take a rest. You’ve been bent over this desk since early morning.”
There was still a lot to do before her father returned. Mr. Shepard hadn’t said how long he’d be away, yet Nick expected him at any moment. “You’re the one who should take a break. You are on holiday. Why don’t you go outside and play a game of tennis. You haven’t played since I had my fall, have you?” His tone came out sharper than he’d intended, but he thought once again about Mr. Shepard and what he’d say if he came back and found his daughter holed up in this office.
She shrugged. “No. But I prefer being in here helping you. Besides, there is no one to play with.”
“What about Victor?” He’d seen the boy hang about the corridor the first few days, looking daggers at him at the sight of Alice sitting beside him.
Her eyes lit up in hilarity. “He finally packed his bags and had the pony cart hitched up to take him to the train station this morning.”
“Where is your young lady friend?”
“Lucy? Oh, she had to go home, too. Her family was going hiking in Scotland.” Her voice sounded wistful, and he realized once again how lonely this wealthy girl’s life was. The only mother figure she seemed to have was a middle-aged companion who preferred spending time with the housekeeper.
Nick stood. “Well, it’s time we both had a break. It’s almost lunchtime anyway.” Usually he’d had a tray brought to the office but he decided to do something differently today.
Miss Shepard stood immediately, a smile breaking out on her face. Nick steeled himself against that smile, reminding himself his life had no relation to hers. She clasped her hands in front of her. “What shall we do?”
He hadn’t got as far as thinking of that part. “What would you like to do?”
She tilted her head a fraction and thought a moment, a slim finger against her chin. Then she looked at him, a sparkle in her eyes. “Have you ever played chess?”
He smiled in relief. Finally, there was something he did know how to do. “Yes.”
If she was surprised, she didn’t show it. She turned to leave the room. “Well, come along then.”
She led him to a wide veranda with latticed railing in the back of the house. “It’s too nice a day to be inside.” She sat on the floor and brought out a polished wooden box and a folded game board from a shelf under the low table and began to set out the ivory pieces.
He remained standing, watching her array the carved chessmen in rows at either side of the checked board. “My mother taught me to play chess.”
“My governess taught me. She said it was a good game of strategy…and patience.” She smiled as she added the last.
“Were you in need of those qualities?”
She shrugged. “All I knew then was that if I learned how to play chess, perhaps I could play with Father. But he had little inclination for games that last so long.”
Before he could comment on that statement, she waved him to the low couch facing the board. “Have a seat, Mr. Tennent.” She gave him a sly smile under her tawny brows. “This should be an easy win for someone good at mathematics. I shall even let you be white, since you are the guest.”
He sat down across from her and soon they were immersed in the game and even forgot about lunch.
He found he enjoyed pitting his skill against hers. Just as with tennis, she didn’t make things easy for him, and he appreciated that. Whenever she captured one of his pieces, she’d give him a small smile of triumph.
They played in silence for quite some time, when Miss Shepard raised her eyes to him. “Mr. Tennent?” There was no amusement in them now. “What was your house like growing up?”
Surprised at her question, he answered flatly, “Small and dingy with the smell of boiled cabbage. It was always damp. And cold in the winter. My brothers and I would huddle together under a blanket.”
She