Page 48 of To Wed an Heiress
Lennox hesitated in the doorway. He had work to do. He was going to go back to his drawings and try to figure out what had gone wrong this morning.
Irene arranged the vegetables she’d purchased on the cutting board. He liked watching her. The angle of the knife there, the way she lined up the carrots and onions. Every movement of her hands seemed like it was planned and carried out with militaristic precision.
The vegetables didn’t stand a chance.
“We need to work on the kitchen garden,” he said.
She glanced at him. “That’s the first time you said anything about that. And why would that be now?”
“It seems to me we should be able to grow our own vegetables.”
“And who would be doing the weeding? And the cultivating? And the planting? Are you planning on hiring someone else?”
“There is that,” he said.
“Tommy grows the best vegetables and he charges a fair price for them. I’ve not the energy nor the time to be hoeing and digging. Never mind getting on my knees to weed. And I doubt that you’re willing to give up your puttering to become a gardener.”
“Puttering?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Whatever you call what you do in the Laird’s Room. It puts coins in our pockets, Your Lordship. Gardening wouldn’t.”
“I hate it when you call me that,” he said.
“That you do,” she said, smiling. “But it was very clever of you to get me started on gardening so I wouldn’t talk about the American girl.”
It was his turn to smile. Irene had always been an intelligent woman. He didn’t want to talk about Mercy with anyone, even Irene.
However, it seemed as if Irene wasn’t finished.
“You need to call a truce,” she said. “Make up with Douglas.”
“I wasn’t the one who started it all, Irene.”
“I swear, the two of you are bairns. It doesn’t matter who started it. It’s who finishes that counts. Be the bigger man.”
“I’m fine without Douglas Macrory in my life. I’ve managed the past five years. I can manage the rest of it.”
“The old man might not have five years.”
“Then the problem will resolve itself, won’t it?”
“If you think that sister of his is more reasonable, I’m here to tell you that you’re wrong. I’ve never seen ice in a human shape before, but there it is.”
“Irene. Let it go.”
She sliced the end off a carrot with more force than was necessary, then looked up at him with a frown.
“Mercy isn’t your enemy,” she said. “If you gave her half a chance she might be a great deal more.”
He didn’t know how to respond to that, so he turned and left the room. He needed to involve himself in his work. That way, he could banish all thoughts of Mercy.
When the carriage stopped in front of the house, a servant opened the door and stepped aside. Mercy was about to exit the vehicle when McNaughton stepped up.
He extended his arm and she had no choice but to take it, descending the two steps to the gravel.
“Miss Rutherford.”
“McNaughton.”
