Page 49 of The Dreaming Beauty
Daisy shook her head. “Not at all. You really ought to stick to painting.”
“I was just getting started. I need only a little more time and it will be perfect.” Tansy wiped her brow before taking the house from Daisy and setting it back on the ground.
“You’ve been at it for hours, but it is worse now than it was before.”
Tansy hated to admit defeat. Perhaps with some sort of training and days or even a week of practice, she could accomplish the task. What she needed most, however, was patience, and hers was gone. She stood and glared at the wood. Without a second thought, she kicked it. The wood split apart, her nails keeping only two of the four boards together. “There. It’s improved already. Let’s get ourselves a drink, and then I will try again after I help Aster and Iris for a while.” If she could not help Daisy, she might as well help with the storm cleanup.
Daisy followed her to the edge of the willows, and Tansy lifted the curtain of branches to the side. Her gaze was drawn across the lawn to Marcus. She sucked in her breath. He had come after all.
He, not Thomas, wielded the ax. His muslin shirt was untucked in the back, his coat and cravat missing. The top of his shirt was unbuttoned at the chest, his sleeves rolled to his elbows. Strong, forceful blows struck the trunk of the tree, and with each one, his forearms tightened, along with the ridge of his mouth.
It was easy to admire his physique, as he had always been attractive to her. But watching him work like a common man brought back the same admiration she’d felt when he had crafted Daisy the small chairs. She did not know another gentleman of her acquaintance who would do such backbreaking work without being asked. He must know they could not pay him, and yet the whacks continued in a steady staccato.
“Why are you staring at Mr. Taylor?” Daisy asked, following her gaze.
“Because he is worth watching.” Tansy played with the hem of her neckline, wondering what the world would be like with more men like Marcus in it.
Daisy chuckled. “Then, you must watch him until he is finished while I gather these scraps together. I have a mind to ask him myself to help us with our houses, and I just know he will say yes.”
“Mmm, I believe he will.” Tansy continued to observe him until, at length, the trunk split. He rested the ax by his side long enough to wipe his brow with his arm. His head moved to the side, as if he sensed her. Their eyes connected, and suddenly she felt quite exposed.
She dropped the branches behind her, as if she had not been standing there mesmerized for any great amount of time. Then, with purposeful steps, she crossed the lawn toward him. “How long have you been here?”
He wiped his brow again and handed the ax to Thomas. “Not more than an hour.”
“He is stronger than I am,” Thomas said with a grin. “He made short work of this here tree.”
“I must thank you, Mr. Taylor.” She swallowed to keep her voice from cracking. “And your family, for sparing you.”
Marcus looked away and then back at her. “My family knows I am seeing after the tenants. I was all too happy to stop here as well and see if I could offer my assistance.”
So his family did not know he was here, nor would they likely be thrilled about the idea. Her eyes went to his half-dressed attire and landed at the base of his neck and the top of his chest. Her cheeks warmed, and she forced her eyes to meet his again.
He grinned. “It seems I am not the only one who has been hard at work though.”
“Who, me?” She pointed to herself, then glanced down and noticed the bits of wood clinging to her dress and a streak of dirt mottling the brown fabric by her knees. Her hand flew to her hair, discovering the loose pins and strands of hair falling free.
Before she could answer, Daisy called Mr. Taylor’s name. “You are finished!” She ran to them, bumping into Tansy as she did. “I asked Tansy to fetch you this morning, but she would not. And Aster refused to send a note with Betsy down to the great house to ask for your help.”
A smile crept lazily across Marcus’s face. “Miss Tansy would not send for me?” His gaze drifted to hers. “That’s all right. I am here now, so you may ask whatever it is you wanted to ask me.”
“It’s the houses,” Daisy said, words spilling quickly from her mouth as they often did when she was excited. “Tansy attempted to build me new ones, but she hasn’t the talent for wood. Not like you. What we need is a carpenter, and I just know you can make houses as beautiful as the two chairs you crafted. Please say yes, Mr. Taylor. I must have your help!”
“If you must have it, then who am I to argue? Show me what you two have accomplished, and I will see if I can give a bit of advice.”
Show him her dilapidated house? Absolutely not. Tansy took a step back toward the willows. “That won’t be necessary. Tomorrow is soon enough. Or the day after that. We know how busy you are.”
Marcus eyed her as if he knew she was deflecting him and began walking toward the trees. “Nonsense. There is still daylight.”
She put out her arm to keep him from passing, walking backward to keep up with him. “It is nearly dinner, and you must be starved. Come again tomorrow.”
“If I did not already have an appointment tomorrow, I would. And dinner is not for a few hours yet, making this moment terribly convenient.” He was to her now, and she had to step in front of him. What sort of lady tried her hand at a hammer and nails? If he thought she was a mess, she could hardly guess what he would think of her creation. The embarrassment was too much.
He went to move around her, and she darted to block his path again.
“Really, Tansy,” his voice teased under his breath for only her to hear. “It cannot be as bad as all that.”
The informal mention of her name split through her desperation and brought a cheeky smile to her lips. “That is for me to know and not another living soul.”
