Page 19 of Stealing a Scoundrel's Heart
Hurlington’s eyes momentarily went wide and then he donned his regular roguish smile and said, “It was my pleasure,Marrie.”
Marjorie returned his smile. “Hurlington, stop trying to make me tongue tied, it won’t work any longer.”
Even though they had all given her leave to address them by their given names, Marjorie still called them by their titles. But when they were alone, Marjorie called him Alister, and he loved the way his name rolled off her tongue.
“I haven’t forgotten you, Lord Whistlestop.” Marjorie held out more handkerchiefs for Whistlestop, this time embroidered with a horseshoe.
His friend chuckled and gave her a broad smile. “I shall treasure them.”
Why a blasted horseshoe? He didn’t care to think that they were keeping secrets.
Alister held out his hand. “Where are mine?”
Marjorie frowned at him. “Are you leaving?”
“No.”
“Then you shall receive yours when you set out and return to London.”
Disappointment burned low in his belly. He had no intention of returning to London, at least not without Marjorie, which meant he wouldn’t ever receive a personalized set of handkerchiefs from her. Alister tucked his hand back into his pocket. They were just damn handkerchiefs and yet he was jealous.
It was overly warm in her tiny cottage, especially with Alister’s heated gaze trained upon her. While Marjorie’s nerves no longer rattled when chatting with Hurlington, Whistlestop and even Foxton, a mere glance from Alister had her entire nervous system jingling. But she found that when she took the extra moments she needed with Alister, he didn’t mind, didn't call her slow or dim witted, and patiently waited for her to respond, even if it was nonverbally.
She held Alister’s gaze just a moment longer than what was socially acceptable before turning to smile at the three gentlemen whose eyes flickered between Alister and her. “What shall be the first thing you all do upon your return to London?”
“Sleep.” Hurlington wagged his brows at her. “I never sleep well in the blasted coach, and I miss my bed.”
A bolt of courage spurred Marjorie to ask, “Is that all you miss?”
Hurlington had taken on the role of her sparring partner. However, unlike her best friend Elise, the man had a terrible habit of turning the most innocent of replies into innuendo that made the tips of her ears turn bright red. She hadn’t mastered the art of disguising her reactions, but she was diligently working on the skill.
“Not at all.” Hurlington leaned down until he could whisper in her ear. “Are you trying to get me killed? Dartman is in a right mood today.”
She rolled onto her tip toes, placed her hands on Hurlington’s shoulders and whispered back, “Alister would never harm you.”
“You are playing a very dangerous game, Marrie, very dangerous.”
“Weren’t you the one who said if I wanted to discover if Alister held a tendre for me I needed to provoke the man?”
“Yes, and I told you Foxton was a much better boxer than I. Dartman will demolish me. Please. I like my nose…”
She took pity on the man and took a step back, only to find herself coming into contact with a hard chest and steel fingers about her arms. Alister’s grip on her was light but firm. Marjorie attempted to twist but failed.
Hurlington and Whistlestop both bowed and murmured a goodbye. Foxton stepped up. Wedged between the two men, Marjorie looked up at Foxton with pleading eyes, hoping the man would hear her unspoken plea not to further provoke Alister.
Apparently, Foxton didn’t possess the skill of telepathy, for he grabbed her hand and tugged her forward. “Let’s venture outside for a walk, shall we?”
Alister grabbed her other hand and held on. “I’d like a moment alone with Lady Whalen first.”
Foxton released her hand and crossed his arms over his chest. “You shall have all the time you need to be alone with her on the morrow. I intend to spend the entire afternoon with Marrie before I leave.”
“Why?” Alister asked.
“You're not her guardian. You're not her intended. And you’re damn well not her husband. There is no need for me to explain myself other than I wish to spend time withmy friend, and ifMarrieis willing, that is all that matters.”
She didn’t want the two friends to bicker over her. Foxton and Alister were too much alike. It was near impossible for anyone to guess what truly motivated them, as neither revealed more than they wished to others.
Marjorie pulled her hand free from Alister and stepped closer to Foxton. “A stroll in the gardens would be nice.”
