Page 7 of Bargaining for the Barrister
Chapter 3
Paul did not consider himselfclumsy, but this only added to his string of bad luck. Not only had he hit a strange and beautiful woman, but he’d stumbled into her arms and nearly ripped her hair out. The woman he was stuck to had to be horrified by his manners. Dash it all, he hated to be touched. And now he was literally bound to another person.
His fingers fumbled as he attempted to rid the hair from his button as fast as possible. A few maneuvers later and he unentangled himself from her. With the haste of a retreating soldier under fire, he took two hasty steps backward. Unfortunately, he’d forgotten about the bench behind him. He sat with such force that the wooden bench tipped backward, and he found himself on his back with his legs in the air.
Lud, this stranger had witnessed the most horrifically embarrassing moment of his life. With all haste, he rolled onto his feet and flipped his coattails down off the middle of his back. He cleared his throat and dipped a bow.
“Well, that was most unexpected,” the woman said with a laugh. She reached up and snatched the loose hair he’d torn from its pin. With nimble hands, she coiled the thick dark hair around her fingers and secured it back into place.
His mother’s face was red, and her flustered hands fidgeted with her dress. “Paul, dear, this is Miss Cox. She is visiting with her brother from Manchester. Miss Cox, this is my only son, Mr. Sheldon.”
So this was the woman his mother had sent for. Dressed in very fine clothes, Miss Cox had a heart-shaped face, large amber eyes framed by long lashes, and an unnervingly open smile. The word that came to his mind was adorable—not that her appearance would weaken his resolve one ounce.
And why was she smiling at him? He had practically mauled her. Realization dawned, and he momentarily squeezed his eyes shut. She was smiling because she thought him an idiot.
“Pardon me,” he said, dipping into a second bow. He should have apologized sooner. “Forgive me for...” He pointed to the bench. “And...” He waved his hand to her person. He cleared his throat and scratched his head. He had planned to appear bored and disinterested when meeting her, but of course, after a night of no sleep, he’d drifted off and been waylaid. It seemed his only option was to attempt to act the part of a decent gentleman. “It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Pleasure was perhaps too strong a word, but he did have some manners. “Where will you be staying during your visit?” Likely with Lady Kellen. Poor Ian.
“Here,” Miss Cox said without missing a beat. “For a while, that is.”
“At Rothbrier Hall?” he sputtered, not caring if he was further cementing an image of his madness in her mind. Why had his mother invited Miss Cox to stay here? With them? In the same house? “For a while” was an impossibly vague timeline too. He dearly needed to escape to regroup his thoughts. Surely, his friends would let him stay at their homes for a time.
“I see you are surprised,” Miss Cox said. “We are here on business, and I do hope our presence will not burden you overmuch.”
“No, not at all,” he lied. His manners were nearly used up, so he turned to the house. “Shall we return inside? I should dearly like to meet your brother.” Matchmaking was hardly a worthy business pursuit. Mr. Cox was either desperate or a poor excuse for a gentleman.
Miss Cox looked around the gardens. “I had hoped to finish my tour of the grounds.”
He glanced back at his mother, who raised her hands and made a shooing motion. He ground his teeth together. “Would you allow me to accompany you? A quick walk around the gardens would be... nice.” He forced out his request, but it left a sour taste in his mouth.
His mother smiled, her color all but back to normal. “I shall wait by the door, where there is more shade.”
He watched his mother quickly retreat and wondered if he had imagined the slight skip in her step. His gaze traveled back to Miss Cox, but he was reluctant to join her, no matter what he’d just said.
“Don’t tell me you are afraid you will trip and knock over another bench.” Miss Cox’s eyes sparked with laughter.
His brow narrowed. “Not at all.” He leaned down and righted the bench. “There is only one bench, so unless you want to stay in this very spot, another accident is unlikely.” He grimaced through his words. “This way, if you please.”
Miss Cox followed him along the narrow path, standing much too close, with her hands swinging naturally beside her. His were tucked firmly behind him so there would be no chance of an accidental touch.
“Oh look! A green-veined white!” She bent over a rosebush to stare at a butterfly and motioned for him to do the same.
He bent a little, hesitant to do anything she asked him to do lest he encourage her.
“Isn’t it lovely?”
“Yes.” His monosyllabic answer did little to dissuade her.
“See the faint black spot? This is likely a male from a spring brood.”
“How do you know that?” The question tumbled from his mouth before he could stop it.
She locked eyes with him as if to gauge his interest in what she was about to say. “This is one of the more common species of butterflies. I am hardly an expert on the subject. My mother though”—she paused, then cleared her throat—“God rest her soul, knew everything about them. I learned a few things from her, but I’d rather admire nature than study it.” A shadow passed over her eyes, but her small frown quickly disappeared behind a ready grin. “Shall we continue our walk?”
A few steps later, he said, “I’m sorry you lost your mother.” He wasn’t going to marry Miss Cox, but he wasn’t heartless.
“Thank you. It’s been a year since she and my father died, so the grief is not as fresh as it once was.”
Miss Cox had lost both her parents? The idea left him more uncomfortable than ever. “A year is not that much time to adjust.” He should know. He’d had a lifetime to grieve his unfortunate connection to the Hammonds, and they hadn’t even died.
