Page 15 of Rules for a Bastard Lord
“You took your pay already,” she said. “When you switched out the money in the lockbox. I’ll wager you took double.”
He had actually, but he was uncomfortable with the way she’d figured him out so easily. “I would have given back the extra had he been honest.”
“And now you got double pay and a carriage. A good day’s work for you, I’m guessing.”
Actually, it had taken much more than a day, but she was right. He’d made sure there’d been solid profit for the trouble. “Good enough,” he said as he slanted her a glance. She stood in the doorway where the afternoon sun made her hair shimmer like gold. He especially liked the way the tendrils escaped her chignon to curl about her neck and bodice. Pretty as a picture, his mother would say.Pretty as a viper, he thought.
“Stop guessing and be on your way,” he said.
She smiled and turned lovelier. Rosy cheeks, a sweet bow of a mouth, and the subtle way her breath moved her curves. She was a woman created to entice a man to ruin.
He turned away.
“What are you planning for that carriage? It’ll take Mr. Grummer a couple days to replace the axle.”
He grunted. “I suppose you have an idea of who might like to buy it.”
“I do. Though what she’ll be wanting with a carriage, I haven’t a notion.”
“How much, you think?”
“Next to nothing from you. She don’t like men.”
He straightened and allowed himself to look at her. He needed to read as much of her face as possible while they negotiated. “Let me guess. You’ll buy it off me for a song, then sell it to this woman, whoever she is.”
“You’re welcome to go about asking who might want a fine carriage.” She looked over her shoulder and gestured to someone to come forward. It was Thomas. “You know of anyone who might buy this fine carriage off Mr. Hallowsby?”
The boy’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. “It’s too ’igh fer us. Nobody has the need.”
Damn. She was going to swindle him again. “What about your mother?” Bram asked the boy. “Would she know of someone?” In his experience, the women knew the secrets, not the men.
Thomas shrugged, and Bram flicked him a copper. “Go ask her.”
The boy nodded and ran off.
“I’d save your blunt if I were you,” Miss Bluebell commented. “You still have to pay your shot at the inn, and I know ’ow he’ll charge you.”
Bram shook his head. “He saw me left high and dry—”
“Except I know the truth.”
Yes, she did. Damnation. This is why he hated little villages. Every single one of them out to rook the outsider. “I’d rather pay him than you.”
She offered him a sunny smile. “Suit yourself. But I’m the only one who knows who might buy that carriage.” She gestured down the road. “I live up the road. Ask anyone. They’ll show you. When you’re ready to sell that carriage, you let me know.”
Then she sauntered off, her skirts swaying, her face lifted to the sun. Her bonnet dangled off the back of her neck, doingnothing to keep her skin from turning brown. But he knew the sight would haunt him for the rest of his life. Sweet creamy skin, high cheekbones, and that soft smile on rosebud lips. Lust came as an afterthought. Her beauty was that absorbing.
Then she was gone. She rounded the bend out of the inn yard as she hummed to herself, and that soft sound lingered in his thoughts.
“Keep looking,” said a male voice beside him. The innkeeper, he realized. “All the men hereabouts look, but she’s got eyes for only one man.”
He turned, his brows arching. “And who is that?”
“Vicar’s son about eight miles that way.” He jerked his head to the west. “All the girls are like mooncalves after him. He’s a bookish boy, but handsome as sin. Smiles like he has a secret he won’t share unless you’re nice to him.”
Bram ground his back teeth. He didn’t want to think about Miss Bluebell with anyone but himself, illogical though that was. He didn’t want her. And if this bookish vicar’s brat wanted her, then good riddance.
“Are they engaged?” he pressed, not sure if he wanted the answer.
