Page 34 of In Search of a Husband
She strode down the hallway, glancing over her shoulder. “Nor has it been mine for you to do anything beyond grunt and grumble.”
He followed. “I’m good at grunting and grumbling.”
She spun on her feet and then waved her finger out at him. “Don’t you dare be charming…Gabriel!”
Perhaps it was the late hour, or the way she had hummed before her set. She was always humming. “It’s late, I apologize.”
“It’s late,” she agreed, her shoulders sagging. “And I’d like some tea. Would you like some or are you planning to retire soon?”
“I would. I will accompany ye to the kitchen.”
“No need.”
“What if ye encounter Sophie? One moment.” He ducked into his office and grabbed a candle.
“You’ll be there merely for protection?” she asked when he rejoined her in the dark hallway.
“I’ve never met her before. She could be a terror.”
“Worse than Lorna and Maisie?”
“That’s debatable.”
Silence fell between them as he led her to the kitchens, and she hummed to herself quietly. He had never met anyone who moved as if they floated. She was all legs and grace, and he was ashamed to admit how he had thought of her legs this afternoon after he accidentally caught a glimpse of her in her wet chemise.
He hadn’t returned to Scotland to take a wife. And he hadn’t employed a governess so he could have some questionable tryst. He was there to save the distillery and restore the inn so he could recover his investment.
But Miss Katherine Bancroft was temptation.
And damn it all if he didn’t want one taste.
They stepped into the kitchen, full of shadows and drafts, and hesaw to the kettle. He pointed toward the table, inviting her to sit, which she did, but not before pulling her shawl over her shoulders.
“Sorry, the fire is out.” Gabriel stopped himself from rambling about chopping firewood was on his list of things to accomplish.
“What are you doing up at this hour?” she asked.
He searched the larder, finding an apple, cheese, and a crusty heel of bread. “It’s nae matter.”
When she leaned forward, eager to listen, he paused. It was something she did often, whether she realized it or not. The governess gave space to those around her.
“I’m sorting out my late brother’s estate. He dismissed the last land steward three years ago and never hired a new one. And then between vendors and the fire at the inn, and the repairs needed at the house…”
“And the distillery.”
“My family’s illicit whisky was well-kent. But the operations would never have been approved now, given the Excise Act. I want to see the girls have a future, and that means I must handle what I can.”
“But the whisky?”
“It is a decent business. It could be far better if I legitimize the operation. But there are a lot of people who dinna wish to see that change.”
“Like Mr. Wallace.”
“Yes, among others.”
Namely Duncan McQuarrie, who had profited well as Tavish’s health declined. He didn’t much care for Gabriel’s return, as it meant more competition and fewer profits.
The kettle hissed, so he removed it from the fire, then poured the hot water over the tea, and brought the cups over to the table. He removed a pocketknife from his vest, sliced the apple, and broke off a piece of bread for Miss Bancroft.
