Page 10 of A Beguiled Gentleman (The Bradley Brothers #1)

Chapter 10

Hannah ran her hand along the handle of her basket, smiling at Noah and his ridiculous theatrics. While over for dinner the other evening with his mother and brothers, he had offered to escort her to the Baxton’s for an afternoon of berry picking. Hannah enjoyed the natural way her bond with Noah had grown over the last two weeks of dinner parties and day outings. It was rare for her to so readily connect with someone.

“I plan to pick two full baskets and put you to shame.” He swung his basket in a full circle as if it were a display of great athleticism.

Hannah watched it spin with a laugh. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you are missing a basket if that is your aim.”

The day was perfect—the sun hanging lazily in the sky with a cool breeze from the not-so-distant shore. Hannah wished to throw her bonnet to the wayside and relish in the feel of the sun on her face, but her freckles would come out in full force if she did such a thing.

Noah twisted his basket so it spun in his grasp. “I’m sure Mrs. Baxton would give me another basket if I return a full one to her.”

Hannah turned to him. “If you do such a thing, she will think it as good as done that you wish to court her daughter.”

“Nonsense.” His face scrunched up into a scowl. “Over berries?”

“Oh, yes.” She kept her face serious. “It is an old custom. Men regularly offered baskets of berries for a young maiden’s hand.”

He gave her a flat stare. “Well then, perhaps I shall have you return my basket. I do not wish to give Miss Baxton false hope. Though, I’m sure she would welcome an extra basket of strawberries from Donald.”

A guffaw burst out of Hannah. “As if she could rightly expect such a thing. I’m sure Donald’s attentions are saved for some daughter of high rank or wealth. Even though Miss Baxton is perfectly lovely, and I enjoy her company very much.”

It had been six weeks since they arrived in Warthford, and the last two had been greatly spent with the Bradleys. It was not lost on Hannah what her mother’s aim was. But Noah did not seem to mind.

Noah knelt in front of a bush, picking several strawberries and placing them into his basket. One had a soft spot, leaving a bit of red juice on his finger, which he promptly licked off. “Donald has not shown interest in any young woman thus far. I’m not quite sure what he is waiting for, to be honest. The man is over thirty.”

“Perhaps he is in no rush.” Hannah squatted in front of the same bush as Noah, plucking a berry and popping it into her mouth.

“If you keep eating the strawberries, you shall never win.” He nodded toward her still empty basket. “But,” he said, throwing another handful into his own, “my biggest curiosity concerning Donald is why he doesn’t seem interested in matrimony. It is my utmost goal. Or, it was,” he added, his brow puckering. But it had no effect on his frantic picking—the berries were already piling up. “I hope that one day, my desire will return.”

Hannah ate a few more berries and watched as Noah competed in a game against himself. “How long has it been now?”

“Since the balcony incident?” He smiled, looking up at her.

Hannah tried to quell the shimmer in her stomach as she thoughtfully admired the deep brown of his eyes. It was happening more and more—this physical reaction to him—whenever he smiled at her or gave her his complete and rapt attention as she shared her thoughts. But they were only friends. That was the plan all along. And he was still hurting. It would be selfish of her to expect anything other than friendship from him. And yet . . .

She shook her head, finally putting some of the large, ripe berries into her own basket. “Are you always going to call it that?”

His eyes fell flat, and he tipped his head. “It is either that or ‘the night my life all but ended.’”

“Noah,” Hannah said, trying to stop a chuckle. “Are you perhaps being a bit dramatic?”

He squinted up into the sky. “No, I do not believe so.”

Then she did laugh, and his eyes came back to her, and he smiled. “You think I am silly, don’t you? Always wearing my heart on my sleeve?”

Hannah looked at her basket. “You said it, not me.”

“At least I have a heart,” he said in a teasing voice, nudging her shoulder with his.

She turned to him, scoffing. “I have a heart.”

“Oh, do you?” His eyes widened. “Let us take account, shall we? Going back to the infamous balcony incident where you brutally assaulted me—”

“So dramatic,” Hannah said beneath her breath.

“—was rather unfeeling if you ask me,” he continued on as if he didn’t hear her. Then his mouth quirked into a grin as he kept his eyes on his task.

“No more unfeeling than Margaret breaking your heart.” She threw a strawberry into her basket with more force than she intended, likely bruising several of them as it splattered against the others.

Noah’s hands stilled, his eyes dropping to the grass.

Regret instantly settled over her as she watched Noah’s crestfallen face. “Noah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

He plucked a single strawberry, cradling it in his palm. “I had only been teasing you.”

“Please,” she said, placing her basket aside as she turned toward him. “I suppose I did not want to—” Her words dried up. She could not say that she did not want to be seen as less than Margaret in his eyes; that she was somehow less than Margaret because of her being unfeeling. Not without questions being asked or suspicions forming. “I know you had only been teasing, and I took it too far. Forgive me?”

He narrowed his eyes—one slightly more than the other—and finally looked up at the sky with a frustrated sigh. “I cannot say no to you when you look at me like that.”

She intensified her gaze, widening her eyes. He peered back over at her. “Fine.” He took one of the strawberries from his basket. “I forgive you. Though you do not deserve it.” His mouth formed a faint smile.

“Thank you,” Hannah said, putting her hand out and giving his forearm a quick squeeze.

“Now, now,” he said, feigning embarrassment. “You cannot handle me so brazenly. People will talk.”

She chuckled. “Then let them talk,” Hannah said with a smirk. “And I’ve collected more berries than you.”

“What?” Noah leaned over, glancing at her half-full basket, and then back at his. “How did this happen?” He began furiously plucking away. “You distracted me on purpose.”

She scoffed. “I did no such thing. Have you not heard of the tortoise and the hare?”

“The hare became overconfident. Which is a mistake I shall not make again.”

“Well, you had better hold to that resolve, because Miss Baxton is coming this way.”

His head jerked up for a moment before returning to his furious picking. “You can hold her attention, can you not?”

“But where would be the fun in that?” She grinned, tucking her head lower so that Noah would be the first to be seen.

“Hannah, no,” he hissed. But it was too late. Miss Baxton was already waving at him.

“What a lovely day, is it not, Lord Noah?” she asked.

Hannah watched as he put on his social smile, standing and bending into a slight bow. “Incredibly lovely,” he called out as Miss Baxton approached them. “But I fear the day’s beauty is diminished because of all the ladies here today. How can it compare?”

Hannah could see Miss Baxton’s glowing smile even from a distance, and Hannah did her best not to roll her eyes. Not because of Miss Baxton herself, but rather Noah’s overly flattering tongue.

“Gag,” Hannah whispered, and the only sign that Noah heard her was him kicking his foot so a small bit of dirt flew back toward her. “Noah, this is my nice day dress,” she hissed.

He smiled, speaking through his teeth, “Then I would recommend not wearing it whilst berry picking.” Miss Baxton stopped a few feet away from them. “Are you going to join us, Miss Baxton? Miss Gibbons and I are having a competition of sorts, and you are welcome to share in the camaraderie.”

“A competition?” Miss Baxton looked between the two of them, a curious smile on her lips.

“Yes. We are seeing who can fill their baskets the quickest.”

“How fun.” Miss Baxton’s smile widened. “I would love to join you.”

“Splendid.” Noah held his hand out, then helped Miss Baxton kneel beside the bush.

They picked and made conversation, and Noah did his best to keep them entertained with light anecdotes and stories. Hannah loved the way his voice rose and fell, inflection in his every word. If given the opportunity, she would listen to him for hours, reading aloud or just speaking of his day, and Hannah didn’t think she would ever tire of the sound.

Hannah found herself smiling when Noah was in the midst of a story of him and his four brothers getting into some mischief as children when she heard a faint buzzing sound. Without thinking, she flicked her hand up to her ear. The buzzing faded but quickly came back. This time, she leaned her head away and turned to inspect it—only to find it was not a fly, but rather, a bee.

She shrieked before she could stop herself, jumping up and flicking her hands about.

“Hannah,” Noah asked, standing with panicked eyes. “What is the matter?”

“It’s a bee!” she shouted.

Then the pompous man had the audacity to laugh. “A bee?”

“Yes.” She ducked, trying to remove herself from the bee’s interest. “They are loathsome. They sting!”

Noah stepped over to her, still smiling. “Here, let me get it.” He waved his hand, trying to shoo it away, but it would not be deterred.

“Why won’t it leave?” Hannah shrieked, then crouched and began crawling over the grass to get away from it.

“Hannah,” he said with a laugh. “It is only a bee.”

“Do not say only like it is not of consequence.” She sat up on her heels, her neck tight as the bee buzzed about her head. She whined nervously in the back of her throat.

Noah knelt beside her. “I believe it wants your berries.”

She put her basket down and stood, then took hurried steps away from the bush and tempting berries. Thinking she was free, Hannah released a sigh. She put her hands to her head, taking calming breaths. Miss Baxton stared at her and Noah watched her with mirth in his eyes.

“Did that help?” he called out.

“I believe so—” Hannah had not gotten the words out before she heard the incriminating buzzing again. “No!” she yelled back.

Noah stood, striding over to her. She was still ducking and dodging in hopes of freeing herself from the bee’s persistence when she felt a warm hand gently grip her forearm. “Hold still,” Noah said, his voice calm and low.

She nodded, her mouth pinched closed so she wouldn’t make a fool of herself and squeal like a child again.

Noah reached his hands up near her face, his eyes fixed on the bee as it buzzed about her. For a moment, her fear of the bee diminished as she studied the lines of his face and the slight bow to his lip. He was so close . . . She dipped her eyes to keep from noticing such things.

And then a clap sounded by Hannah’s ear, breaking her from her trance.

“Blast!” Noah clutched his hands in front of him, hunching his shoulders as he dipped his head. Then a litany of muffled curses strung from his lips and Hannah was glad she could not make them all out. “There,” he said, straightening with a huff. He flicked his hand. “The problem is taken care of.” He turned toward her. “And you had better be grateful, for that hurt like the devil.”

“I am incredibly grateful, Noah. Thank you.” Her shoulders trembled, but she pressed her mouth closed.

He narrowed his eyes. “Are you trying not to laugh right now?”

She shook her head.

“Then say something.” His brow rose as he watched her.

Straining her neck, she took a tight swallow and several deep breaths. “I thank you for your service.” Her lips wobbled, and after desperately trying to hold it, she finally could not stop the laugh as it lifted from her throat.

As if anticipating this very thing, Noah’s mouth broke into a grin. “There. That’s better.”

Her laugh softened, and she tilted her head. “What?”

“I hate to see you hold in your laughter. It cannot be good for one’s health.” He winced, bringing his hand up as if to inspect it. “A good, strong laugh, however,” he said, narrowing his eyes as he studied his palm, “I would imagine to be very beneficial to a long and happy life.” He plucked something from his hand.

Warmth pooled in Hannah’s stomach. Had she ever been encouraged in such a way? Not that she could remember, though she supposed it was possible. Noah’s eyes kept Hannah’s gaze as he smiled at her, and for the life of her, she could not look away.

“Is that—” She swallowed her sudden nerves. “Was that the bee’s stinger?”

“I believe so. Poor thing has lost its life because of you.”

Her mouth fell open. “I did not kill it.”

“No, but what else was I to do? Your hysterics were reaching a fevered pitch, and if I did not put an end to it, your mother was going to hear all about the gossip before you even returned home.”

His words sobered her, for while he might have been teasing, he was very right. “Then I thank you and the poor creature that gave its life.” She looked around for her basket, but it was several paces away. “I should bring my basket back to Mrs. Baxton.”

“Already?”

Hannah strode past Noah, and he trailed after her. “I cannot risk another outburst. I am lucky not to have drawn attention.” She grasped the woven handle of her basket.

“Hannah, wait.” She heard the soft brush of Noah’s steps in the grass, but she pressed ahead. When she made it back to where they had been picking before, Miss Baxton looked up at her. Hannah had nearly forgotten she was there.

“Please don’t leave, Miss Gibbons.” Miss Baxton perked up from her seat in the grass. “I was looking forward to spending the afternoon with you.”

“Yes, Miss Gibbons,” Noah said, striding past and turning to her with a fake pout on his lips. “You must stay.” And then his silly expression softened into the sweet smile she had grown so fond of seeing.

“Very well.” Hannah ran her hand along her arm. For whatever reason, hearing both of them tell her how much they wished for her to stay had made her feel awkward. Especially after her ridiculous theatrics over the bee. “I suppose I could stay.”

Hannah knelt down, her hand trembling as she reached forward to pick another of the ripe fruits.

Miss Baxton began talking about her family’s plans for the summer, but when Hannah looked up, it was Noah’s gaze that caught her attention. He used his finger to point at Hannah with a raised brow, and strangely, Hannah knew just what he was asking. Are you all right?

She swallowed a sudden lump in her throat and nodded.

Yes, perhaps she could stay for a little while longer after all.