He descended slowly.
A gothic hero comes to life in a pearl gray waistcoat, snowy white cravat, and dark trousers tucked into calf-hugging black leather riding boots.
Hanging lazily at his side was a steel-barreled dueling pistol. An icy finger slithered down Jolline’s spine. She briefly considered the possibility that her fever had returned—or her imagination had finally shoved her over the cliff of reality. But he wasn’t a hallucination. He was all too real. Only slowly did she tear her gaze away from the pistol, the boots, and the waistcoat to see the man himself. In the dim gray light, his hair was raven black; his eyes a pale, imperial blue; his face chiseled and unsmiling—everything about him the embodiment of nineteenth-century haughtiness. She wanted to do a curtsy. To run. To tell him she didn’t need that governess job after all. Jolline was at the house for HVAC maintenance, but the Lord of the Manor was someone she knew all too well. Why was he dressed like that with the temperatures so high? Elliott was the first caller at the cooling company that morning. He said that his cooling equipment had broken down the previous night. The failure of the air conditioner must have made him cranky because he sounded impatient on the phone. I was unfortunate enough to be the cooling expert on the job. Elliot and I had history, and it was not all pleasant, but I had a climate control unit to fix, and that is precisely what I did. I did not need any help finding the a/c setup. Elliott’s HVAC incorporated the latest cooling technology, which made my work easier. I also replaced the air filter to improve the indoor air quality. Before long, I was on my merry way. I later learned from a fellow cooling technician that Elliott was particular about the cooling specialist he wanted to conduct the a/c service.