Page 38 of In Search of a Husband
“I will never go back to my life in London. At least here I am… someone. Not a wife to be won over or bargained for.”
“Nae, ye’re a governess. Isna that worse?”
“If I am so repulsive, then I choose to live within the choices I have left, and to live them without regret. If I am to be a despicable governess, then at least I will have a room to sleep in and food in my belly, and I will be safe.”
“Ye’re no’ safe with Lorna and Maisie, they’re bound to run ye off one way or another. And as for me?”
His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, his eyes glowering at her, appraising her.
“Katherine Bancroft, ye’re a menace,” he growled before stomping out through the back into the stable yard.
He grabbed an axe and placed a log on another, then raised the weapon above his head and split the log clean into two.
Oh.
Kate was certain she was furious with him. And she likely still was. But never had she seen a man with an axe before.
Never…
She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.
Splitting wood was nothing she would have seen in London. But here? Certainly, she would be lying if she didn’t admit she hadn’t heard rumors of men wearing kilts, and she had heard rumors of rough Highlanders. But in her short time in Scotland, she hadn’t seen a kilt, and while Gabriel was stubborn, she wouldn’t go as far to say he was rough and dangerous.
But no one had ever prepared for her this.
“Close yer mouth,” he snapped, knocking off a teetering split log to replace it with another.
There, that made everything far easier to deal with.
“Miss Bancroft!” the girls shouted from inside.
She ignored them, proceeding down the stairs into the stable yard and squinting her eyes against the sun filtering through the dark-gray clouds.
“If you won’t tell us what we can help with, I will find something to help with. Like finding you a wife.”
He swung the axe overhead and let out a low, guttural groan that made her feel a bit funny, as if she were stuck in a crush in a London ballroom, and the doors wouldn’t open to allow in fresh air. “Ye wouldna dare.”
“Try me, Mr. MacInnes.”
“Now it’s back to Mr. MacInnes?” He shook his head, laughing at her. “No wife. I’ve no interest.”
“Which is exactly what a man would say if he were afraid to be loved.”
He narrowed his eyes on her again, and she thought for a moment he would lift her up and toss her over his shoulder. And for one flash of an instant, excitement bubbled in her chest at such a possibility.
“Says the governess who’s here to hide after some useless cad ruined her because she didna recognize her own worth. Admit it, Kate, ye need to be kissed and well.”
She edged closer, lifting her chin. She could smell the fresh split wood and the salt of his skin, and already, he was disappearing into Scotland. If he had told her any later that he had lived in Paris and Hamburg, she never would have believed him. He was all rough edges now.
“Who says I haven’t?”
He tossed down his axe, and she backed up a step, a nervous giggle erupting in her chest, suddenly spurred on by the light in his eyes as if he was enjoying their sparring.
Then a small whine echoed from the edge of the river.
“Miss Bancroft!” the girls shouted again from inside. Finn hollered back at them, but Kate couldn’t understand.
And couldn’t hear honestly, for she was already well on her way to investigate the noise by the river.
