An Exception to His Rule Read Free Page A

glasses resting on the table.
    Harriet looked confused for a moment, then, ‘Oh, it was only a lens that got broken so I was able to get a new one.’
    ‘Red glasses.’ He looked her up and down. ‘Not quite in keeping with the restrained elegance of the rest of you—today, that is.’
    A fleeting smile twisted Harriet’s lips. ‘Ah, but it makes them a lot easier to find.’ And, for a moment, she thought he was going to smile too but he continued to look unamused.
    Harriet looked away.
    ‘How would you catalogue them?’ he asked after a moment. ‘This is not even one tenth of them, by the way.’
    ‘I’d photograph them in the sequence I came upon them and I’d write an initial summary of them. Then, when they were all itemised—’ Harriet laced her fingers ‘—I’d probably sort them into categories, mainly to make it easier to locate them and I’d write a much more comprehensive description of them, their condition, any research I’d done on them, any work required on them et cetera. I’d also, if your mother kept any receipts or paperwork on them, try to marry it all up.’
    ‘How long do you think that would take?’
    Harriet shrugged. ‘Hard to say without seeing the full extent of the collection.’
    ‘Months,’ Arthur supplied with gloomy conviction.
    ‘Were you aware it was a live-in position, Miss Livingstone?’ Damien queried. ‘Because we’re out in the country here, whoever does the job will spend an awful lot of time travelling otherwise.’
    ‘Yes, Arthur did explain that. I believe there’s an old stable block that’s been converted to a studio and it has a flat above it. But—’ Harriet paused ‘—weekends would be free, wouldn’t they?’
    Damien raised an eyebrow. ‘Didn’t Arthur tell you that?’
    ‘He did,’ Harriet agreed, ‘but I needed to double-check.’
    ‘A boyfriend you’re eager to get back to?’ Damien didn’t wait for her response. ‘If that’s going to be a problem and you’re forever wanting time off to be with him—’
    ‘Not at all,’ Harriet cut across him quite decisively.
    ‘Not at all, you wouldn’t be wanting time off all the time or not at all, there is no boyfriend?’ Damien enquired.
    Arthur coughed. ‘Damien, I don’t think—’ he began but Harriet interrupted him this time.
    ‘It’s quite all right, Arthur.’ She turned back to Damien. ‘Allow me to set your mind at rest, Mr Wyatt. There is no fiancé, no husband, no lovers, in short, no one in my life to distract me in that direction.’
    ‘Well, well,’ Damien drawled, ‘not only a paragon in your profession but also your private life.’
    Harriet Livingstone merely allowed her deep blue gaze to rest on him thoughtfully for a moment or two before she turned away with the tiniest shrug, as if to say he was some kind of rare organism she didn’t understand.
    Bloody hell, Damien Wyatt found himself thinking as he straightened abruptly, who does she think she is? Not content with smashing my car and causing me considerable discomfort for weeks, she’s—
    He didn’t get to finish this set of thoughts as the woman called Isabel popped her head around the door and offered them afternoon tea.
    Arthur looked at his watch. ‘Thank you so much, Isabel, but I’m afraid I won’t have time. Penny wants me home by four.’ He paused. ‘What about you, Harriet? We did come in separate cars,’ he explained to Damien.
    Harriet hesitated and glanced at Damien. And because most of his mental sensors seemed to be honed in on this tall, slender girl, he saw the tension creep back as she picked up her purse and her knuckles whitened.
    And he heard himself say something he hadn’t expected to say. ‘If you’d like a cup of tea, stay by all means, Miss Livingstone. We haven’t finished the interview anyway.’
    She hesitated again then thanked him quietly.
    Isabel retreated and Arthur, looking visibly harassed, subjected them to an involved explanation of why he needed to be