Page 59 of In Search of a Husband
“Ye’re baking?”
“I found a recipe for this bread and thought to try it. It’s simple and will help cut costs.”
“Ye sing, bake, and now ye’re proving to be economical.”
She smiled at the teasing in his voice. “You will find I am excellent with numbers.”
“I dinna doubt it.”
But it was more than that. She had relished her time here as they worked together the past few days.
“Who knew that spending my entire life preparing to be a peer’s wife managing a large household would suit to running an inn?”
“Ye’re verra clever, Kate. Ye would have figured it out, nae matter the challenge.”
He was as kind as he was charming. But soon, her help wouldn’t be needed, and then what was she to do?
The girls now had Elsie, and all three of them seemed content with that arrangement. She would need to return to Charlotte. Even if she enjoyed her time here in Scotland, this was no place for her to remain alone. Her stipend had been generous, but not generous enough to make her an independent woman.
She didn’t wish to give up her autonomy or return to London, where she would be cut by proper society time and again.
“It should be better than the cookies,” she added.
He paused, drinking from his water glass to gaze at her over the edge as if she had somehow scalded him.
The memory stood between them in the silence, and Kate felt her cheeks grow warm. She couldn’t forget the way he touched her and kissed her as if she was all he needed. Those sweet, bruising kisses that left her reeling.
It was enough to make her knees weak and her breath catch. And she had tried—and failed—for several days now to forget it ever happened.
He cleared his throat. “We should plan on returning to Dunsmuir soon before the rain starts.”
She returned to punching the dough when she only had to knead it. Was she expected to spend her life alone after being ruined? Truly?
“Gabriel?”
He paused, glancing over his shoulder back at her. “Aye, lass?”
Her cheeks flushed and pulled her focus back on the bread. “I only need a few minutes to clean things up.”
“Finn is stayin’ the night. No need to put out the fire.”
“Where’s MacInnes?” a gravelly voice boomed from the front of the inn. “Wallace!”
Kate froze, remembering it well. The same voice that had threatened her peace the day they found Oliver by the riverbank.
“Christ alive,” Gabriel muttered, reaching up to tap the low beams. “Always something, aye?”
“MacInnes!”
Kate wiped the flour from her forehead and brushed her hands against her apron. “Why is he back here? I thought Finn was to help with Duncan?”
Gabriel bent his neck from side to side, then stretched out his wide shoulders. “Stay here.”
Kate rolled her eyes, skirting around Gabriel and out into the tavern room. “We’re closed, Mr. McQuarrie, and last we spoke ye said a month.”
“Ah, they’ve ye answering for ‘em now, is it? That’s fine.”
The older man slowly circled the large tavern room, sweeping his eyes from ceiling to floor before he settled on Gabriel standing behind the bar.
