Page 10 of The Scot’s Seduction (Heirs & Spares #2)

W ell. She already knew her Scottish oaf had a temper, but seeing him explode in Banny’s showroom made her feel all tingly.

And wait. When had he become her Scottish oaf?

“No cane, then,” she said, rising from her seat. She nodded to Banny, who began to slide the coat off the earl’s massive shoulders. “We’ve got other appointments today. We’ll have to return later for the other fittings.”

Banny grinned. “I’ve got plenty to do here,” he replied.

She knew it delighted him to dress a gentleman with such natural.

..presence. By which she meant musculature, height, and breadth.

Banny was starting to gain a wider, more aristocratic clientele, and she knew it would result in more business for him when the earl appeared in public.

She and Banny had met when she’d helped his late mother keep her small dress shop from the hands of creditors.

Her husband, Banny’s father, had been a scoundrel who liked gambling more than he liked keeping his family fed and housed.

Drusilla had stepped in to solve the problem, and had further helped him when his mother passed and he’d decided to continue his mother’s work but change to making men’s clothing.

Doing good made more good things happen. That was her philosophy in life, and thus far, it hadn’t been proven wrong.

The earl donned his serviceable old coat, then gave her a wary glance. “And our next appointment is...?” he said.

She winked, and she could have sworn he blushed, though it was hard to see through the thicket. “What do you think it is, my lord?”

He grimaced, and she laughed in response.

“Yes, indeed. We are going to the barber’s to take that execrable thing off your face.”

“Thank God,” Banny said in a fervent voice. The earl glared at him as well, but Banny just waved it off.

“And then we will head to the haberdasher’s,” she added.

His expression was now more resigned than angry. As though he had accepted his fate and was going to go along with it.

Good. The sooner he realized she was the one in charge, the better.

Though she did wonder how she could get him to display his temper; watching the flash of fury made her feel as though someone had lit a spark under her feet.

If he wasn’t currently living under her roof, the uncle of her newest project, and obviously irked at how assertive she was, she’d be seriously considering him as her next lover.

As it was, all she could do was admire the view.

But it was an excellent view; even with his facial excesses, she could see how attractive he was. His nose was strong and sharp; his eyes were dark and held an intelligent intensity. His black eyebrows were stern, dark slashes that made him look fearsome.

If he appeared one morning with an eye patch and a gold earring, she would not be surprised. And she would be quite pleased.

That wasn’t even taking into account his body.

It was truly stupendous. She’d admired his general appearance that first time, when he and Miss Emily had been fighting outside.

But since then she’d had the opportunity to examine him more closely, and all of him was made of muscle.

Apparently it took a lot of strength to be gruff and plainspoken all the time?

Whatever it was, she was thankful. But also unsettled, because she should not be thinking the kinds of things she did when she saw his forearms. His Adam’s apple.

His strong hands with their thick, blunt fingers.

“Thank you, Mr. Banford,” the earl said. “I know I might seem a little ungrateful, but I appreciate your making so many things on such short notice.” She was pleasantly surprised by how kind he sounded, despite being so visibly annoyed.

Banny’s eyes twinkled as he looked at the other man. “It’s not Lady Drusilla’s way to allow for enough time,” he said, giving her a sly glance.

She bristled but didn’t say anything, because—because, damn it, he was correct. She always had to scamper to catch up to things, mostly because if she didn’t, people would suffer more. She couldn’t bear to let things continue as they were if they could be improved.

Yes, it made her sound far nobler than she actually was; really, she just wanted everyone to have the same easy, comfortable life she did. That they didn’t, and that she could solve that, one case at a time, was just the logical response.

Perhaps eventually she could rest.

But until then, she had to constantly push forward, which is why she valued her leisure time—time spent with Joey or with her succession of lovers—so much. It was rare, and it allowed her to relax in a way she never allowed herself to do during the normal course of her days.

“Lady Drusilla should visit my estate in Scotland,” the earl said, a surprising note of humor in his tone. “She’d find that the only way for things to progress is to give them time. You can’t rush sheep or crops,” he said.

The image of her heading up to Scotland to some remote estate was so foreign that she had to take a moment to examine it. To just sit? To just be? That would be lovely, but it wasn’t something she could allow herself. Not now—likely not ever. There would always be more work to do.

“While the idea of watching sheep grow wool is very appealing,” she said in a tart voice, “we’ve got an appointment.”

His expression fell, and she immediately felt abashed. She shouldn’t take out her resentment on him. Just because he had his life and she had hers didn’t mean that she should snipe at him.

She took his arm, guiding him to the door.

“Thank you, Banny,” she said. She wanted to say something to the earl, to apologize, but she didn’t know what.

And it didn’t matter, did it? As soon as his niece was decided on her future, the two of them would part and would never see each other.

This was a business transaction, nothing more.

She should remind herself of that more often. Especially when she found herself being envious of a life she had decided not to choose.

M urdoch decided it was best he not speak for a while. Because if he did, it was likely he would reveal how her comment had hurt. And that would subsequently reveal his fascination with her, his interest in knowing more about her and allowing her to know more about him.

But what she’d said made it clear she was not interested in him. He needed to keep his distance, since to try to get closer to her during this short time would be frustrating for both of them: him for not succeeding, and her for his trying in the first place.

Theirs was merely a business agreement.

Though, he smiled to himself, most business agreements didn’t require shaving.

“I’m sorry,” she said flatly, when they’d been in the carriage for a few minutes.

He glanced at her, startled. “Sorry?”

“I’m sorry. I can be more direct than most people are accustomed to.”

He gave her a bemused stare. “Surely not more direct than I.”

“When you speak,” she replied, her tone dry.

“I speak,” he said, sounding defensive. Even though he knew he wasn’t being entirely truthful; yes, he spoke, but he didn’t volunteer anything. Nor was he likely to try to actively engage anyone in conversation.

“We can debate that point another time,” she said, now sounding more comfortable. “The point is, I said something hurtful, and I apologize.”

That was surprising. He wasn’t accustomed to anyone owning up to a mistake, much less a fancy aristocrat like her.

Not that he had much experience with fancy aristocrats, but he imagined they swanned around being haughty most days.

Though he had to admit that was not his experience with her thus far.

In fact, living at her town house was far from what he’d expected.

For one thing, he wasn’t constantly besieged by servants wanting to do things for him.

On the contrary, a few times the housekeeper had stopped him to ask if he could reach an item that was high, or straighten a painting that had gotten tilted and was above her reach.

For another, there was no time, it seemed, when it was completely quiet.

There were always people milling about, or tasks being done, or children playing with kittens.

It felt like a very small village rather than a house.

Perhaps that was why she wanted a building so much?

So she could relocate the excess people at her house and have some quiet?

Though he didn’t think so.

But again, it wasn’t his concern, he reminded himself.

It was true, however, that she had proven herself to be a thoughtful, kind, and considerate person, despite also being bossy, opinionated, and unerringly direct.

In fact, the kind of person he rather thought he was himself.

“We’re here,” she said as the carriage slowed. It came to a stop, and she opened the door, then leapt out without waiting for assistance. He followed, furtively glancing around in fear someone would have seen them and assumed he had refused to help, not that he hadn’t been given a chance.

There was nobody, thank goodness, and so he exhaled, following her as she led the way to a small shopfront.

It had a barber’s pole outside, and its large windows revealed a row of chairs, along with a few people inside.

One man was in a chair, his face fully soaped up, while another wielded his strop like a baton.

Murdoch gave an involuntary shiver.

“It won’t be that bad,” she said, nudging him in the side with her elbow. “Just think, you won’t have to worry so much about food getting caught. Or the occasional spider.” She peered up at him. “Are you certain you don’t have a small family of sparrows living in there?”

He growled, but she only laughed. “I know you’re not nearly as fierce as you appear, my lord. It’s obvious in the way you’re caring for Miss Emily, and how you regard her when she’s not looking at you.”

He felt himself blush. But fortunately she couldn’t see it, thanks to the beard on his face. A beard that, unfortunately, he was about to say farewell to.

A bell tinkled as they went in, and the barber working on the man in the chair looked up, his expression shifting to a warm smile as he recognized Lady Drusilla. “Here you are. Cutty’s in the back—he’ll be right out.”

She nodded, saying, “A pleasure to see you, Mr. Walsh. Don’t let us keep you from your work.” She walked down a few chairs from the first one, then held her hand out. “This is Cutty’s station. You might as well take a seat.”

Murdoch grimaced. Not only had she refused any help getting out of the carriage, now she was expecting him to sit while she stood. “Is there a place for you?” he asked, glancing around.

She shook her head. “No, I’d rather be up close for the action.” A wicked grin accompanied her words, and he groaned internally.

“Fine,” he said, going to sit in the chair.

“You’re here!” a voice called, and then a short bald man walked out, a beaming smile on his face.

Lady Drusilla rushed up to him, wrapping her arms around him in a hug.

Murdoch blinked; even in the village near his manor, he’d never seen a lady of higher status embrace a working person. Lady Drusilla was most definitely an oddity.

“Well,” she said, turning to him, one arm still around the barber, “shall we trim the wool?”

“Baa,” he replied without thinking. Wait. Had he just imitated a sheep?

She blinked, then burst out laughing. “You’re definitely the largest sheep I’ve ever seen. Come along, Cutty, let’s see what’s underneath.”