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her eyes closed, wanting to dispel her thoughts along with the images hampering her mind. It didn’t help; her imagination conjured up the image she’d hoped to banish. Lord Brendall was like some long-forgotten warrior. She pictured him brandishing a sword, cutting a swath through enemy lines. She made a strangled sound, and had to focus on the ground in front of her.
    It wasn’t her fault she was imagining him in half dress.
    The man was never decently clothed whenever she’d happened upon him.
    Taking a deep breath, she forced a smile on her face, hoping the desire she’d felt moments ago wasn’t obvious.
    Hopefully they’d think the red of her cheeks an effect of the chilly wind and not something she seemed to experience whenever she looked upon her employer.
    Ignoring her unruly thoughts, she studied what the men worked on. Strange that there were no local tradesmen helping them reassemble the wall. Did his lordship not have the money to pay them to do the task? Was that why they’d hired a governess for a mere pittance, instead of hiring a tutor for his son?
    The man working next to Lord Brendall must be Thomas. He had a full white beard beneath his straw hat.
    His eyes crinkled at the sides as he squinted against the sun. A red kerchief was tied about his neck, and his sleeves were rolled up to the middle of his forearms. He wore a kind, welcoming smile, one that encouraged her a few steps closer. She did not wish to interrupt them overly much.
    She could wait for them to finish their work before she asked for a hand in retrieving her belongings.
    Lord Brendall stood and drank water from a skin: his head tipped back, his damp shirt revealing a clean, strong outline of the muscles on his back: the indent at his spine, the outline of his shoulder blades, and the solid bulk of his shoulders and arms. She watched his throat work as he swallowed the liquid.
    Perhaps the journey to Northumbria had tired her more than she thought? Perhaps this attraction she felt would subside after a decent night’s sleep? He was very different from what she was used to in a man; that must be where her fascination stemmed from.
    He hadn’t looked up at her yet. But she didn’t doubt that he knew she stood silently by. Thomas nodded in her direction and said something too low for her to hear over the wind whistling around them.
    It wouldn’t do to be distracted by the lord of the manor.
    As quick as the thought came, her eyes trailed back to his strong form. She had to force her gaze to Martha’s husband. Goodness, what had gotten into her? She’d never spared a glance for any man. This was thrice now that he had captivated her attention wholly and completely.
    Someone ought to hit her over the head to clear the nonsense from it. Where were her sisters when she needed them most?
    She curtsied when Lord Brendall turned to her fully.
    “Good morning, my lord. I’ve come bearing gifts from the kitchen.” She held out the basket.
    Lord Brendall didn’t glance her way. He’d gone back to mortaring the stones with a gray slop mixed in a large wooden pail.
    It was Thomas who spoke. “That wife of mine is spoiling us too soon in the day.” He raised his hand in her direction. Beckoning her closer. “Come sit closer to us. Who be you, lass?”
    “The governess and new hire, Miss Hallaway.”
    “Well, Miss Hallaway. Let’s see what you’ve got in that basket there. I’ve worked up an appetite this morning.”
    She opened the basket and set out the small linen spread enclosed with the sandwiches. She supposed it was her duty to lay the food out for them since they were mighty filthy with dirt and sweat. She busied herself with the task, trying to ignore the fact that Lord Brendall was ignoring her.
    It shouldn’t bother her. She shouldn’t want him to pay her any mind. Yet it stirred anger in her gut to be disregarded so thoroughly.
    She handed Thomas a sandwich filled with ham and cheese. “I’ve come to ask a favor of