Page 33 of In Search of a Husband
But that’s all it took sometimes.
And Kate was dangerously close to falling for Mr. MacInnes.
CHAPTER 7
The piano fell silent.Finally.
“Go to bed,” he shouted from his office.
Gabriel glanced at the clock. It was well past ten in the evening. How the girls managed to be awake and continuing their reign of terror was beyond him. He had hired Miss Bancroft to handle them, and yet she allowed them to run wild.
And he hadn’t the time to manage everything.
Nor did he wish to contend with her. Like earlier that afternoon when he discovered her bathing in the river, looking far too beautiful than a woman should. He had lived all over the continent after London and considered himself well traveled. And never had he met a woman who crawled under his skin the way she did.
Since her arrival, everything felt off-kilter. He was only one man trying to do the impossible it seemed, and no one wished to help. Especially Miss Bancroft.
And yet he had turned around this afternoon to discover her sitting on the rocky path, her long black hair draping over her bare shoulders to her waist and her cheeks so pink, worrying over a bumblebee. The way the sun washed over her on the perfect September afternoon, the way her voice cracked when shediscovered the bee was missing its wing. Every minute detail about her finally clicked into place, and he was sure he couldn’t stand her.
Not even a little bit.
Certainly not when he heaved a sigh and pushed back from his desk and strode into the music room to discover Miss Bancroft there on the bench instead of the girls.
“They’ve been in bed for two hours.” She smoothed her hands over her lap. “I’m not a complete failure.”
The room, once a battery, now had ivory-barreled ceilings and cracked plaster walls of clover green. “That was ye playing?”
“Do you have a ghost in residence I do not know about?”
“There is a story of a woman dressed in white named Sophie. Died in the turret. Though, late one evening, my mother told me the dress was actually green.”
Miss Bancroft nodded. “Of course. Every eerie Scottish castle needs a ghost.”
“Eerie? This…” He paused, leaning against the doorway. “It is, isna it?”
She shrugged. “A little. I apologize for the noise. Excuse me, I will return to my?—”
“Nae noise,” he said softly. Yes, it had in fact been terrible, but he was certain that was not how he would win over her trust. If they were to be partners in righting his family’s legacy, she must trust him. “And ye didna bother me, Miss Bancroft.”
“I believe that’s all I do, Mr. MacInnes.”
“Gabriel, please.”
She looked down at her lap and bit back a small grin. Something within his chest tightened at the mere sight of it.
“If the girls are in bed, then why are ye playing piano at this time of day?”
She rose. “I…” She glanced at his mouth, then slowly up to his eyes. “If you must know, I was practicing so I could teach the girls that song tomorrow.”
“That would explain the horrible playing.”
She scoffed, then brushed past him. “Just because we swam alone today does not mean you can address me in such a…”
He remained still, watching, with a quirked eyebrow.
“Familiar way.”
“It hasna been my experience for ye to be so miss-ish.”
