Page 26 of The Lord Meets His Lady
“How…helpfulof Mr. Beckworth.”
“I’m glad you agree. Alexander went to fetch them from the Red Swan while you slept.” She gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Of course, any repairs to the cottage and I’ll use my army of one.”
He could feel his scant coin box getting emptier by the moment, but there was no mistaking the steel in her voice—a quality he liked, the same as the white bow dangling from her bodice and the other one touching her neck. He couldn’t decide which one he’d untie first if given the chance.
“Anything else?” he asked.
“Oh yes,” she warned softly. “There’ll be no making free with your hands under the stairs, milord.”
“Agreed. You haven’t had a good look at the stairs. Worst place to launch a full-scale seduction.”
She fought a smile and lost. “That would mean there’s a best place?”
Her arms fell loosely at her sides. The little changes made her a gentler morning companion. He wanted to tease out more of this entrancing person.
“You have a point,” he said, scratching morning whiskers. “Pallinsburn is not seduction-worthy at all.”
“I’m quite serious. Your charm won’t work. I’ve come north for a better life.”
“‘North’ and ‘a better life’ are a contradiction in terms, Miss Turner. Besides, friendly banter is the spice of life.” He grinned, his finger waggling back and forth between them. “What goes on between us is fun. Admit it.”
Her head tipped a degree. “The rules are different here.”
Interesting. His housekeeper didn’t deny the fun. She avoided acknowledging it.
“Does that mean no harmless flirting? Ever? What about when we’re alone with only these four walls to hear us?”
“Lord Bowles…” Her shoulders squared proudly as warning threaded her voice.
Had he gone too far? Her earnest plea deserved to be honored, and randy ways or not, he’d do his utmost for her. His young housekeeper was a fighter in the best sense, striving for a better place in the world. She’d won his admiration, if not a piece of his heart, right then.
Outside his window, voices rose in conversation. Wheels rolled in his driveway, but he was more interested in the woman at the end of his bed. If this chamber were a battlefield, he’d say the smoke from her morning march had lifted.
Miss Turner licked her upper lip, the tip of her tongue lingering on the plump center part, wetting her utterly kissable mouth. “It’s difficult to stay angry with you, milord.”
“At least I have that on my side.”
He sat relaxed on his downy mattress, aware of this being the longest morning conversation he’d ever had with a domestic. At most, there’d be a word or two with a footman putting coal on the grate in his Northampton Hall bedchamber. Pallinsburn was not his ordinary world, nor was Genevieve Turner an ordinary servant.
“You have many pleasant qualities,” she said, breaking the silence. “Your wit and humor, yourtruefriendly nature such as you showed in the Beckworth kitchen. Those make you more attractive than anything on the outside.”
His chest swelled. Her simple compliment was worth more than all the flattery from Society’s reigning beauties. “Such fine praise, and I haven’t risen from my bed yet.”
“Our situation is different, milord. I’m here on Mr. Beckworth’s request.” She hesitated, her fingertips touching his counterpane. “But there is another reason.”
“Yes?” For a few seconds he didn’t breathe as luminous coffee-colored eyes searched him.
“I’ve decided I want your help.”
“With your reason for coming to Cornhill?”
His housekeeper nodded. “You made a good point yesterday. I don’t know this district. You do.” She collected herself, her brows knitting delicately. “It would seem I’m in need of an honorable man after all.”
She wanted to share her burden with him. He couldn’t bollix this. Sheets rustled from his legs stirring. He wanted to get out of bed but stopped short. He was naked, save his shirt, and the garment landed mid-thigh.
Miss Turner faced the window, the light bathing her profile in whiteness. “I need your help to find someone.”
The doll.
