The Letter by Sandra Owens

took Jamie’s hand. “Well, I’m proud of you. Let’s take these to the kitchen so Cook can prepare them for our dinner.”
    She tried to resist glancing back, but failed. Michael stood, staring after her, a scowl on his face. It pleased her in an unexpected way. Somehow, she had upset him and was walking away unscathed for her daring. She turned her face forward so he wouldn’t see her smile.

Chapter Six
    He should not have brought up the past.
    “She has a lot of hurt in her heart, that one does,” Obadiah observed.
    Michael jerked his gaze to Obadiah’s wizened face. His old friend had always been able to recognize a wounded soul. “She does and the blame for it is mine.”
    “Then you best be putting her back to rights, my boy.”
    He had been “my boy” to Obadiah at the age of five and still was at the age of six and thirty. His gamekeeper had never been impressed with his title, had never once used it. “That is my intention. Would you spend an hour or two in the afternoons with the boy? Like his mother, he has had a difficult life and, well, I’ve never forgotten how you once helped me. I’m hoping you can do the same for him.”
    Obadiah smiled. “I can do that. You going to marry his mother?”
    No, he was going to marry Serena. “What makes you say that?”
    “I seen the way you look at her. Like you be dying of thirst and she being a cold drink of water.”
    No, the only thing in his eyes when he looked at her was concern. And perhaps regret. Michael shook his head. “Sometimes you see things that aren’t there, Obadiah.”
    “I see what I see. Now might be a good time to tell me the boy is yours.”
    “Christ, you scare the bloody hell out of me, old man. But I don’t know for sure. He might be, but I have no way of being certain.”
    Obadiah cackled and walked away to collect the rods and Michael’s trout. He returned, handing Michael the basket. “Here you are, my boy. Take your fishes to the kitchen and then go see about your lady.”
    She wasn’t his lady. Not anymore.
    When Michael reached the house, he came across Roger. “Did you just return?”
    “Aye, my lord, and Mr. Johnston returned with me. Him and a lady’s maid are waiting for you inside. I meant to return soon as I delivered your letter, but he bade me wait and ride Reckless back. Most fun I ever had, if you don’t mind me saying, your lordship. That horse is a right one, he is.”
    Michael agreed, glad to have his feisty horse back with him. “Johnston’s here?” He should have known his secretary would be compelled to investigate his request for a lady’s maid and a tutor.
    “Aye, my lord.”
    He sent Roger on his way, and after delivering his basket of fish to his cook, went to the study. “Johnston, I do not recall requesting your presence.”
    Johnston stood and bowed. “My lord, I thought it best to ensure all arrived safely.”
    Five years ago, Michael had rescued Johnston in a gaming hell. The young man had been caught cheating at cards, and Michael had seen the despair in his eyes. When the Viscount of Englemore called Johnston out, the pup, visibly shaking, had quietly asked where and when. Michael did not condone cheating, but for reasons he still did not understand, he had stepped in and saved the man.
    Once inside Michael’s carriage, Johnston confessed he had a mother and six sisters to care for. One of his sisters was sick and there was no money for food or a doctor. He swore this was the first time he had cheated, but that he had been desperate. Michael had sent for a doctor for the sister, sent his cook out to purchase food for the family, and offered Johnston a position as his secretary, something he had never had before and didn’t think he needed. But he had never regretted it.
    Much to his relief, Johnston proved his worth. He stepped in and organized Michael’s life to an extent he had never dreamed possible. Johnston also believed his position included protecting the earl from fortune