Page 17 of Lady Sophia's Lover
“As I cannot reply without making an unflattering remark about Eliza, I will hold my silence on that point. However,youare not going to Covent Garden alone. You will take one of the runners with you.”
“They’re all gone,” Morgan interceded, glancing from Sophia to Ross with an alert look in his eyes.
“Allof them?” Ross asked in flaring annoyance.
“Yes. You assigned Flagstad to the Bank of England—it’s time for quarterly dividends—and Ruthven is investigating a burglary, and Gee is—”
“What about Ernest?”
Morgan spread his hands in a gesture of futility. “Ernest is delivering the latest edition of theHue and Cryto the printer.”
Ross returned his attention to Sophia. “You will wait until Ernest returns, and he will accompany you to market.”
“That won’t be until midmorning,” she said indignantly. “I can’t wait that long—all the best goods will be gone by then. In fact, the stalls are being picked over right now.”
“That is a pity,” Ross said without a shred of remorse. “Because you are not going alone. That is my final word on the subject.”
Sophia leaned over his desk. For the first time in two days, she met his gaze directly. Ross was conscious of a deep delight curling through him as he saw the sparks of challenge in her blue eyes. “Sir Ross, when we first met, I wondered if you had any flaws. Now I have discovered that you do.”
“Oh?” He arched one brow. “What are my flaws?”
“You are overbearing, and you are unreasonably stubborn.”
Morgan interrupted with a snicker. “It has taken you a fullmonthof working here to reach that conclusion, Miss Sydney?”
“I am not overbearing,” Ross countered evenly. “I merely happen to know what is best for everyone.”
Sophia laughed and considered him thoughtfully in the silence that followed. Ross waited for her next move, fascinated by the little pucker that appeared between her fine brows. Then her forehead cleared as she appeared to reach a satisfying conclusion. “Very well, Sir Ross, I will not go to market alone. I will take the only available escort—which appears to be you. You may meet me at the front door in ten minutes.”
Robbed of any reply, Ross watched as Sophia left the office. He was being managed, he thought with a twinge of annoyance, and damned adroitly, too. On the other hand, it had been a long time since any woman had tried to manage him, much less had succeeded, and for some reason he was enjoying it immensely.
As the door closed smartly behind Sophia, Morgan turned to look at Ross. His shrewd eyes were filled with speculation.
“Why are you staring like that?” Ross muttered.
“I’ve never seen you bicker like that before.”
“I wasn’t bickering. I was having a discussion.”
“You were bickering,” Morgan insisted, “in a way that could be construed as flirtation.”
Ross scowled. “I was discussing an issue of safety, Morgan, which is vastly different from flirtation.”
Morgan smiled wryly. “Whatever you say, sir.”
Deliberately Ross lifted his mug of coffee and drained half of it in one swallow. Rising from his chair, he picked up his coat and put it on.
Morgan viewed him with surprise. “Where are you going, Cannon?”
Ross pushed a pile of documents across the desk to him. “To market, of course. Look over these warrants for me, will you?”
“But…but…” For the first time in Ross’s memory, Morgan seemed bereft of speech. “I have to prepare for court!”
“It won’t start for a quarter hour,” Ross pointed out.
“For God’s sake, how much time do you need?” He suppressed a grin as he left the office, feeling strangely light-hearted.
***
