Page 20 of In Search of a Husband
“Long way.”
“It is.” She used the side of her fork to cut off a piece of egg, so fluffy and creamy. She almost moaned once it hit her tongue. Perhapsthe most delicious egg she had ever consumed. Made by a stranger… at a deserted inn in the middle of the muddiest place she had ever been.
“That is delicious.”
The man didn’t say anything, of course, but instead picked up the dishes and brought them over to a washbasin in the adjoining scullery to be scrubbed.
“Do you enjoy cooking?” she asked, desperate for some conversation.
“I have.”
Interesting answer. “I have never known a man to cook.”
“Many dinna in London.”
“Oh, have you been?”
He set the cast-iron pan down on the worktable and wiped his hands on the towel. Not a splatter of butter or egg on his immaculate clothes. “I have a lot of work to see to and no’ much time. I made ye something to eat, but I’m no’ in the mood for conversation. I apologize if that is frank, it’s only…”
She set her fork down, sure she was being whipped up into a rage until she caught the hopeless look washing over his brilliant blue gaze.
“There’s much to do,” he said more to himself than her.
“I understand,” she said, talking around her forkful of eggs. She laughed, certain she could hear her mother’s outrage at such impoliteness. “Please, tell me how much I owe, and I will see myself out. I mean to be no trouble.”
He froze, his hands balled by his trim waist. “I’m an arse, aye? I’m no’ meaning to be one, only…” The man waved her off, then raked a hand through his bronze curls. Kate really should have paid attention to her governess because she couldn’t for the life of her remember the name of the Greek god who was so incredibly handsome. Ares? Asclepius?
“I was the one who walked into a closed inn and asked for food,” she reminded him. “I am on my way to Dunsmuir Castle. Could you help me? A ride there was supposed to be arranged…”
“Damn it,” he muttered. Whatever calmness had washed over himvanished just as suddenly, and soon he stormed around the kitchen, grabbing folders with papers and keys. “What doyewant?” he hollered at her, stuffing an unlit cigar into his mouth.
“Pardon?”
“What do ye want with Dunsmuir Castle?”
“I believe it is my turn to be uncivil now and insist that it is my business.”
“As it’s my home, I think it’s mine as well.”
Oh.
“Mr. MacInnes?”
Oh no.
“Aye, lass.”
This man was to be her employer. No, no, this wouldn’t do. She wouldn’t rescue herself here in Scotland if she stayed with him.
Kate would truly and thoroughly be a ruined woman if she remained.
She licked her lips, setting her fork on her plate and pushing it away as he glared down at her. “I am the new governess.”
He set down his papers on the worktable and grabbed her plate, tossing it to soak with a few other utensils. “Miss Katherine Bancroft, is it?”
She sat forward, gleefully watching as the color drained from his cheeks, and he spun, striking a match against the worktop to light his cigar.
“Yes, I believe so.”
