Once that door had clicked slowly shut behind the man that left the house after a hard day's work with nothing but a promise for things to be just as trying it not more challenging, everything she'd expected to happen after Taylor departed to tend to whatever he so desired after spending several long hours in that yard that was already looking like its old self before Adelaide and Townsend had purchased it had happened. Townsend went about preparing dinner, preparing the chicken and its selected accompanying ingredients as the dark-haired woman lounged contentedly with that same book opened as it rested in her lap, sage eyes tracing along each and every word with quiet interest. Rose and Reginald lay there beside the crackling fireplace, the black and tan male still seeming to carry that stick around with him which amused the young woman no end that the beauceron would find such an attachment to something so simple, but then again it had been quite some time since he'd enjoyed such a game of fetch. She could almost imagine Rose giving the male a disgusted look as she watched him with her proud head settled over those large paws and she had to stifle a soft chuckle as she would look up to the two dogs for a fleeting moment before returning to those pages. There was an easy silence between Adelaide and the Englishman as he worked on cooking the chicken cordon bleu and the sautéed vegetables that would be pairing nicely with it. Yes, there was tension in the air but it wasn't something that was uncomfortable. If anything, it reminded Adelaide of the heaviness that could be found in the air just before a rainstorm, effortlessly guessing that Townsend was attempting to gather his points he would surely be presenting her with on just what she should refrain from doing tomorrow when Taylor would arrive to complete the list of tasks that the slightly older man already likely already had planned. She knew that brooding silence anywhere.

Pausing from that reading as she reaches for the half full wine glass on the coffee table, she takes a sip before setting it back down and is about to resume on that next paragraph when the sound of that knife clicking against the cutting board also pauses. Here it comes, she muses the herself though she still does not lift her gaze to the piercing icy blues of the blonde man standing there at the kitchen island with his gaze focused wholly upon the French woman now."Miss LaBelle. I do insist that tomorrow you stay inside when he arrives for work", he begins then, and still Adelaide does not afford him a glance as she attempts to continue through that sentence. She'd hoped that just maybe if she looked too far into the etched pages, he might have left one enough alone but the more practical side of her knew far better than to think he wouldn't make his thoughts or concerns known, not that there was anything to be concerned about."And why is that, Townsend?", she queries softly, nonchalantly as if he had told her it would rain in the afternoon on Tuesday. She finally finds a fair stopping place on that page and turns those glittering sage eyes to the man who, a gentle smile upon her lips."After that little... display, I should hate for either of you to find temptation on your doorstep. He's just a landscaper", he'd answered assuredly before turning back to those vegetables and dropping them into the cast iron skillet, sizzling filling the room as the aromas of a nearly prepared dinner began to filter through the house."Could you blame the man? He was abolsutey drenched in sweat. Besides, you told him to bring a spare shirt and I'm sure he'll do just that. So what is there to worry about?", she counters easily, laughter finding her gaze though it doesn't quite fall from her lips lest she get an even more stern "lecturing". His gaze hardens then."Yes, well, spare shirt or not don't think for a moment I didn't see your little antics, either. Since when did you enjoy being outdoors in such cool weather?", he continues on, and it was now that Adelaide couldn't help the soft note of laughter that tumbles lightly into the air between them. She hadn't been trying to hide anything from the Englishman and she'd been fully prepared for this very conversation to ensue no sooner than when they'd left her lips only to be answered by the same teasing and playful tenor tones of the roguishly charming man she found herself very much draw to."It's not that I was trying to hide those 'little antics' from you, mon amie. And since when did the matter? I'm a big girl, Townsend. I can manage myself just fine", she rebutted almost cheekily with clear affection mingled into her smoothly spoken words.

He still insisted on treating her like some delicate flower that would wither away beneath the sun if it were too strong or drown with too much rainfall. It was endearing that the man who had absolutely no blood ties to her would care about her so much and she knew that even though he were hired by the wretched nobleman, his devotion to her went so much farther than that. His eyes soften in that moment as he turns his back to her, stirring the vegetables."I just don't want you to get hurt, Adelaide. We don't know anything about the man, and I've been around a time or two to notice when certain... things might be brewing", he says almost quietly now and she could practically feel his worry for her well being, especially when he referred to her by her first name rather than her formal calling. She is almost surprised that he was able to deduce things and come to such a conclusion and that fire in her gaze rises to the surface."Then you worry too much. As for seeing 'certain things', yes I do find him quite handsome and endearing but it's nothing to fret over and that's that", she says with a finality in her accented lyrics. He didn't need to know more than what he believed he already did. She closes that book gently and moves down into the hallway to return it to its place before walking quietly into the dining room across from Townsend's study, draping her slender frame contentedly over the length of the red velvet chaise lounge that sat there near the brick fireplace. She looks out the window then to the darkening sky and finds herself wondering what it was that he was doing, where he was. Not even Julien had occupied her thoughts the way that Taylor did. She turns to stare thoughtfully into the flames of that second fireplace, the sound of clacking dishes coming from the kitchen as she allowed for herself to revisit that image of sweat-slicked skin and that warm yet playful smile. It doesn't take much longer when Townsend enters into the room carrying to plates and sets them across from each other on the white vintage table that seated six comfortably. She turns her gaze to Townsend now who waits for her and so she rises from her favorite place to exist in quiet thought and sits in the chair before the intricately placed food, Townsend following suit."You always make the best chicken cordon bleu, Townsend", she says warmly as though the previous conversation was long forgotten despite seeing in those pale blue eyes his want to insist that she distance herself from Taylor. That wasn't about to happen, and his want for her to do so only seemed to challenge her to try getting even closer to the man - though she'd already intended on doing just that."I do take pride in such talent", he says lightly as he decides against whatever else he might have wanted to say. The tension that had been in the air between the pair is gone as the talk and laugh as they always did. Once dinner was finished, the sun had long since vanished behind the distant horizon and the two exchange a "good night" to one another before disappearing into their own respective rooms.

Quietly,she clicks on the lamp at her bedside. She'd managed to drift off for a few hours, but the anticipation of what she was about to do has her restless. Slender fingers grasping gently at the smartphone on her nightstand and it reads ten o'clock. Plenty of time to get ready. Her steps are light and effortless as she moves into her large walk-in closet and flicks on the light. Selecting those faded light blue slim jeans, a silken sea-green long-sleeved v-neck blouse, and those favorite black heels of hers, she dresses swiftly and grabs that black mid-length wool frock coat she'd worn text night she'd met Taylor, putting each arm not the thick sleeves and buttoning it. She runs a brush through those long, silken dark chocolate locks that cascade elegantly over her shoulders and down to the middle of her back, and adds a final touch, wrapping a black scarf around her neck before stealthily opening the doors to her bedroom. Sage eyes peer through the darkness to see no light leaking out from beneath Townsend's door, Rose and Reginald lying there on both sides of her door. They look up her quietly and rise to a sitting position then as they prepared to follow her down those stairs, but she quickly gives them each a pat on their head."Stay", she whispers firmly to them and on command, they lower themselves back into their original positions. With heels in hand, she pads slowly and quietly down the stairwell, hardly daring to draw a breath until she slowly unlocks the front door and slips out into the cold night. She could feel her heart beating wildly in her breast with excitement, an impish smile on her lips as she carefully locks the door behind her and slips into those heels before quickly making her way down the street to the corner she'd told Taylor to meet her at. She hadn't done any given for like this before and a part of her felt almost guilty for sneaking out of the house right from under the Englishman, but she was ready to finally live. She wanted to relish this new freedom she felt, wanted to share it with Taylor, and above all she couldn't help but want to see him. Where they would go, when they would return, none of that even flickered across her mind in those silent moments as she made her way to that secret destination. It didn't matter where they would go, in the end so long as she was away from home, she would be thrilled to go anywhere with him.