Mariah had long since thought herself a mature, respectable and imminently sensible young woman, due in no small part to the fact that anyone would seem mature, respectable and imminently sensible compared to the other females in her family.
However, at that moment she learned that as it turned out, she was only mature, respectable and imminently sensible when not faced with speaking with the man whose head she had patted that morning.
She had a choice; alert him to her presence at this end of the room, or hide like a small child.
She hid like a small child.
Ducking behind the tall back of the chair before he turned her way, she curled herself into a ball and prayed to the Almighty that he would assume she had gone off somewhere and not coming looking for her.
If he came down here and found her in a ball she would have to feign some malady or other. She couldn't let him know that she was hiding from him, after all.
Mercifully after a moment she heard his retreating footsteps but she did not move until she heard the door closing softly behind him.
Letting out a sigh of relief, she resolved then and there to work even harder and quicker so that she could be out of here sooner than originally planned.
And so that was how she found herself moving stealthily down the corridor, tiptoeing like a thief in the night and heading to the stables before anyone saw her.
"Pardon me, madam."
Mariah shrieked and whipped around at the sound of the voice and as she did, she heard an answering roar of fright from poor, innocent Fernshaw who had only been trying to get her attention.
"Oh, Mr. Fernshaw I am sorry but you gave me such a fright."
"My sincere apologies, madam. I did not mean to startle you."
"That's quite alright," Mariah assured him before taking in his pallor and the fact that he seemed to be pressing a hand to his heart.
She had no doubt scared the wits out of him screaming like she was being attacked.
"Er, are you alright?" she asked now. The last thing she needed today was to kill the butler.
"Yes, madam. Quite well," he said immediately though to Mariah's eyes he still looked rather grey.
The sudden sound of running feet had them both turning toward the source and Mariah's stomach dropped to her shoes when Mr. Haverton skidded to a halt in front of them.
"What's wrong? What happened?"
"Happened?" she asked, furrowing her brow.
"Yes" he bit out impatiently, "I heard a woman's scream. Yours presumably? And then a man's."
"Yes, that was me. And Mr. Fernshaw as it happens. We gave each other quite a fright, I'm afraid."
"Fernshaw?" Mr. Haverton gaped and then, if she was not very much mistaken, his lips quirked in an almost smile. "Why, Fernshaw, I do not think I've ever heard to you speak above a whisper."
"I've never had a need to, sir. Until now," answered the butler dryly.
Mariah felt her face flame again.
"Was there something you wanted Mr. Fernshaw?" she asked, ignoring Mr. Haverton. "Only I really should be going now."
"Yes, there was." It was Mr. Haverton who answered, not the butler. "I had sent Fernshaw to relay a message for you to meet me in my study. If I had known you were going to squawk at him loud enough to wake the dead, I should never have set the unfortunate soul the task."
Mariah had never wanted to slap somebody so much in her life, not even Lillianne.
Choosing to take the moral high ground, she ignored his snide little comment.
"Was there something you wanted, sir?" she asked, all stiff politeness.
As though he could read her mind, Mr Haverton grinned, a genuine full blown smile and the result was staggering.
Mariah's pulse quickened and her heart leapt.
When Mr. Haverton smiled, he went from broodingly handsome to incredibly beautiful. There really was no other word for it.
Mariah would never have described a man as beautiful before but that was what he was. Beautiful and powerful, exuding an aura of authority that she found extremely attractive.
She felt, quite honestly, a little dazed.
"I wonder if I might have a word," he said now.
Mariah said nothing.
"If that is not too inconvenient?"
Again, nothing. She could not speak.
"Miss Bolton?"
Speak, Mariah she chastised herself.
"Yes." She finally remembered to breathe. "A word. Fine. Yes. Fine."
Stop speaking, Mariah she chastised again and abruptly closed her mouth.
He was looking at her as though she belonged in Bedlam. He wasn't far wrong.
"Shall we?" he said finally, gesturing towards his study.
Without another word she stalked past him, nose in the air.
She may be acting like a complete dolt around him but she would not let him see the affect he had on her.
Once they reached the study, Mariah stood wringing her hands while Mr. Haverton circled his desk and sat behind it.
"Please, sit," he said formally.
Mariah preferred to stand but she did not want to seem peevish.
"Can I offer you some refreshment?" he asked politely.