Page 59 of Tempting the Highland Spy
He gave his head a brusque shake. “Leg cramp. I’ll need to stretch out the limb.”
“Oh. It’s fortunate you’re a physician—you, of all people, should know how to heal what ails you.” Her expression was as bland as morning porridge, but the teasing glint in her eyes revealed the truth.
“Ah, Grace, believe me—I do know the remedy. But I’ve no way to turn back time and tell my brother and that arse of an American what they might do with this infernal mission.”
She shrugged again. This time, her other shoulder lifted and fell. “My, you are a bit testy this morning, aren’t you? I do believe you need a cup of coffee, darlinghusband.Or would you prefer tea?”
Why did she keep referring to him ashusband? Was she laying on the endearments for the sake of anyone who might happen to be listening? Or was she simply trying to get under his skin? If it was the latter, she was succeeding.
“Neither.” He turned, giving the pillow a soundthumpbefore he slid farther under the covers, folded his arms behind his head, and stared up at the ceiling. At least that wouldn’t entice him. “You were telling me about your theory that behavior leads to certain assumptions. I can’t say I disagree. But there’s more to it than simply pretending to be something you’re not.”
“Of course,” she agreed. “You have tolookthe part. That’s the most important thing.”
“Hence, the need for a new gown.”
He looked her way and she flashed a little grin. “Now you’re catching on. I couldn’t waltz into that ballroom looking like a shopkeeper’s daughter and be taken seriously. But if you’re wearing the right clothes—and you sound the right way—it works every time.”
“Interesting,” he said, picturing her at the Houghton Manor wedding. She’d been the most beautiful woman there. No one—not even the bride—had been as lovely as Grace that day.
God above, in his thoughts, he sounded like a lovesick lad. He rolled onto his side, giving the pillow another soundthumpwith his fist.
“I need a new gown, something I haven’t been seen in before. A dress guaranteed to draw attention. It will be a challenge to find something at this short notice, but with any luck, I will be able to get my hands on something that will catch the eye. While they’re looking at me, you can ask questions to your heart’s content.”
A logical plan, but what the bloody hell is going to happen whenIcan’t keep my eyes off of you?
“I’ll see what I can do,” he said. “Mrs. Carmichael has a network of connections throughout Scotland. If anyone can assist you in acquiring a suitable gown, it’s her.”
“Splendid. You won’t regret this.”
He assumed she was referring to the expenditure, and in that case, she was right. As for everything else—well, that was still up for debate.
“You’ll do a fine job at the ball,” he said. “You have my full confidence.”
Her voice softened, losing its cheek. “Thank you,” she said simply.
If he had to guess, no man in that room—himself, included—would be able to focus on anything other than the sight of Grace in whatever dress she chose. God only knew he was having a hard enough time, flannel and all. She could show up at the ball in a frock made from a burlap bag, and she’d still enchant every man in the room. Even a tycoon’s luxury-laden daughter could not hold a candle to Gracie Mae Winters.
