Page 7 of The Moonstone Marquess
“You did look like a low creature. You know you did.”
“And now?” He arched a dark eyebrow in expectation.
“You look heroic.” She hadn’t meant to compliment him, but how could she not? He looked splendid with his dark hair obviously freshly washed and his stunning blue eyes no longer bloodshot. He had shaved, and must have bathed, since his scent was divine, that hint of musk and maleness no longer hidden beneath a brandy-barrel reek, and now her heart was in even greater palpitations.
He wore buff breeches, a brocade silk waistcoat that matched the splendor of his eyes, and a dark blue jacket that seemed to enhance the breadth of his shoulders. His boots were black and polished to a shine.
“Heroic? No one’s called me that in years.”
She cast him a soft smile. “As you know, I am prone to speaking my mind. As you also know, I am quite opinionated. But I will tell you the bad and the good. Right now, you appear to be all good. We shall see how long that lasts.”
She led him down the hall to the rear of the house and onto the terrace, where his nieces were seated with Chloe.
Since she hadn’t taken her eyes off him, she saw the hint of pain along with the sparkle of love the moment he spotted the girls.
Phoebe was not certain what to expect, but it was never him suddenly bending on one knee and quacking like a duck. The girls shrieked with glee, bounded out of their seats, and rushed to hug him. “Uncle Cormac! Uncle Cormac!” they both shouted, and then began to quack like ducks as well.
“My ducklings!” He gave each of them a tender hug.
The three of them continued to quack and hug.
Phoebe and Chloe could not stop laughing.
“He seems to have cleaned up nicely,” Chloe whispered as they watched this happy reunion. “Well, Phoebe. What do you think of him now?”
“I don’t know. I am quite stunned by the transformation.” Her mind was now awhirl trying to take in this side of him, this valiant side. This was a man who could be best friends with an honorable duke. This was the man who could be tender with his nieces.
But how much of it was real and how much was merely a façade?
And what of his behavior toward her earlier? He had been so brazen as to kiss her and then ask her to marry him.
She was certain he had been in jest and mocking her because she had blistered him upon their first meeting.
But what if he meant it?
No, it had to be a jest.
How could this man ever be a proper husband to any woman?
In any event, why would he want her?
More important, why would she want him?
Chapter Three
Cormac felt Phoebe’sgaze on him as they sat outdoors and had their tea. What was it about her that he found irresistible? This girl simply drew him in. Perhaps it was not her at all and merely this perfect day. Well, it had not started out very well between them. But this afternoon was turning out to be quite nice.
The light breeze kept the annoying gnats away, and the bees were too busy pollinating the flowers to bother attacking their sweet cakes. The air was warm and filled with the fragrant scent of roses, which mingled with the salt of the sea. The sun was still strong in the sky and there were only a few clouds wafting by, most of them soft white puffs against the vivid blue expanse.
Imogen, her eyes wide, was digging into the delicious lemon cake and still chattering at him with her mouth full. He did not have the heart to chide her, nor did Phoebe seem to have anything to say about it. Her expression remained smiling and doting on his nieces.
He liked this about her. She was a bossy bit of goods, certainly had been with him. But she was gentle as a lamb with his girls.
Ella was the one who told Imogen to swallow before speaking, and then she took up where Imogen left off. “Mrs. Grimble was so angry when we got to your house, Uncle Cormac. She wouldn’t let us go in and ordered the driver to take us here.”
“Lord,” he muttered. “You stopped at Westgate Hall first?”
The girls nodded.
