Page 46 of The Lady Needs a Rogue
“That would certainly be good news.” Macie sent Mrs. Tuttle a speaking glance. “Once we hear from his own mouth that he meant no harm, the worrywarts can cease their fussing over me.”
“I will not stop worrying over you while you’re still gallivanting about London with that camera of yours,” Mrs. Tuttle said.
“Such a mother hen,” Macie said affectionately. “Speaking of my camera, the conditions for putting it to good use should be quite satisfactory this afternoon. Nell, I’ll have the cab deliver you to your fitting before I proceed to the house.”
Nell’s brow furrowed. “You think it wise to go on your own?”
“She will not be alone.” Finn said, a smile in his eyes as his gaze locked with Macie’s. “I will accompany ye.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Macie countered.
“I’d like to take a better look around the house. If I’m to offer an assessment of what needs to be done about the place, I’ll need more than a brief tour of the premises.”
His words were logical and sounded quite sincere. But the look in his eyes told Macie his motives had more to do with watching over her than with renovating the old house. “You’re quite certain you wish to take up your day in a stuffy old house?”
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
Macie resisted the urge to chuckle at his blatant falsehood. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a poor liar?”
“Ah, ye’ve got me there. Honest to a fault, I am.”
Mrs. Tuttle’s cough seemed rather strategic. “A true choir boy if ever I’ve seen one.”
“Sadly, I cannot sing a note,” Finn replied smoothly. “I do possess an ulterior motive.”
Macie hiked a brow. “And what might that be?”
He regarded her with a solemn expression she suspected was an act. “The place is haunted, is it not?”
“Rumor has it that my ancestor roams the halls.”
“So I’ve heard.” Finn plowed his long fingers through his hair. “With any luck, we’ll come upon one of the legendary ghosts of Bennington Manor. But if a man who still lives and breathes is lurking in those halls, he will regret it.”
*
In his nearlythirty years of life, Finn believed he knew what beauty was. A pretty face with a come-hither expression in her eyes, a lush figure strategically enhanced with a corset to draw attention to all the right places, and a glimpse of a shapely ankle were undeniably attractive. Undeniably appealing. That was,until he stood at the base of the staircase in the entry hall of Bennington Manor, leaning casually against a carved oak post, unwilling to look away as he watched Macie with her camera.
He’d seen his fair share—if not more—of lovely women. Lasses in taverns from Inverness to Glasgow had drawn him in with their pretty faces and comely figures, while thediamondsof London’s ballrooms draped themselves in finery of silk and velvet. Lush waves of hair framed perfect faces, the corsets cinching their waists accentuated their assets, and eyes flashing with desire would lure his gaze. He was, after all, merely a man. With a man’s hungers. A man’s desires. A man’s appreciation of an inviting smile.
But until that moment, he had never encountered the true beauty of a woman engaged not in drawing his gaze, but in an intense pursuit of her creative passion.
He’d seen through the plain facade Macie had often employed to camouflage her beauty. She simply could not hide it. No matter how severely she wore her hair or how unattractive her dress, she could not conceal her natural loveliness.
On this afternoon, Macie wore a plain white blouse and dark wool skirt, her hair piled in casual curls upon her head. Sunlight streaming in through a high window danced over her reddish-brown hair and her cheekbones. As he concentrated on the task at hand, she pursed her lips. The intelligence and keen focus on her features intrigued him. His gaze pulled to her, and he did not want to look away.
As Finn leaned casually against the polished banister, he observed Macie’s skilled, confident motions as she set up her camera and prepared to capture the character of this old house. Watching her, he felt something unfamiliar. Something quite new. He couldn’t quite name it. Interest. Perhaps even fascination. And something more. Something magnetic.
As if he’d spotted his true north.
Macie glanced up from adjusting the tripod. “Is anything wrong?”
Bloody hell.Had he been so obvious that he’d given away the path of his thoughts?
He shook his head, a quick, perfunctory gesture, adding the first reasonably rational string of words that came to mind. “Will the light be sufficient?”
“Quite so.” She met his gaze with a smile. “The shadows are rather perfect, really.”
“If ye do not require my assistance, I’ll take a look around. I need to examine the staircases for signs they require reinforcement.”
