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“See that pipe coming from the basin? It goes all the way to the south wall and empties into the gutter system.” He sounded pleased with his own ingenuity.

Honoria folded her arms, suppressing a smile. This was not the man who spent their daily meetings grunting over his ledgers or giving orders with curt nods. This man—smudged, flushed, eyes alight—seemed utterly unaware of how animated he’d become.

“Rather ingenious,” she said. She imagined it would cut a bit of time on her part if she could use this instead of a bath late at night. She could even warm her own water, just before finishing her work. But of course, this invention was not meant for her.

“I am hoping this will help with Robbie’s evasiveness when it comes to bathing,” he said, confirming her suspicions. And she’d thought he wasn’t listening to her reports. She should have known better. “Although this particular one is mine. Just to test if it works well. Later, I shall install another one for the children.” He turned back to the pipe and adjusted a bracket. “Hopefully, Robbie will find it more to his taste than a bath. Of course, Elise might come to enjoy it as well—provided she doesn’t find it too unladylike.”

“That will depend on how well it will rinse her hair,” Honoria noted with a smile.

Caldwell huffed out a laugh. “True enough.”

The footman nearest him began to lower a second bucket into place on the pulley system. Caldwell moved quickly to help, adjusting the chain. “See, the chain twists over here, turning the bucket. This should be an easy fix, though.” He turned again toward Honoria, his initial excitement giving way to the question in his eyes. “Did you want something?”

Honoria cleared her throat. “Yes. But I can come back later, when you are not occupied.”

“I can listen and work,” he said, turning back to the pulley mechanism.

“Yes, I am certain you can. But the matter is rather delicate.”

“Oh.” He paused and addressed the footmen. “That will be all, lads. I will call on you if you’re needed further.”

Honoria waited for the footmen to exit as the earl resumed his work. Well, that’s as much attention as she would get from him.

She swallowed hard. “I… I’ve come to speak with you,” she began, her voice thin and unsteady. “About something important.”

Caldwell glanced over his shoulder, distracted. “Did something happen at the modiste? Was my aunt overly forceful? I hope Elise is not too upset—”

“No.” She gave a short, nervous laugh. “No, nothing like that. It’s about me. I’ve decided that I should—well, I feel it’s time I—”

He straightened fully now, eyebrows raised, attention suddenly sharp. “Yes, Hart?”

Honoria took a breath. “I’m giving my notice, my lord.”

“What?” His fingers tightened over the lever, his eyes wild.

“I’ll—”

There was a loud splash.

Apparently, the lever was too sensitive, as his surprised gesture had caused it to move, upending the bucket and sending the water cascading over his head and shoulders. Luckily, the bucket was not full.

He sputtered, blinking through the dripping mess, his hair plastered to his forehead, and his shirt clinging to his chest.

They both stared.

Honoria’s mouth fell open in horror, and then—despite herself—a tiny laugh escaped. She clapped a hand over her lips, but it was too late. Another chuckle escaped, her shoulders shaking.

He looked utterly ridiculous, wide-eyed and dripping like a drenched cat, although his shoulders snugly hugged by his wet shirt, made her mouth dry.

“I’ll get a towel,” Honoria said quickly, nearly tripping over the door frame as she rushed into the adjoining dressing chamber.

When she returned, breathless and flushed, he was still standing in the middle of the bathing room, water pooling at his feet. She offered the towel, avoiding his eyes, lest she burst into laughter again.

He took it with a muttered “Thank you,” and wiped his face, then rubbed it briskly over his damp hair and down his neck.

When he lowered the towel and looked at her, the intensity of his gaze bored through her.

“You can’t leave,” he said simply.