Page 9 of Too Scot to Handle
“Exactly. You had better desperately need her parasol now, to be willing to give up your best reticule for a time in addition to your own parasol.”
Colin expected Anwen to change the subject, though he couldn’t make the explanation any simpler.
“How does this work with money, Lord Colin?”
Perhaps Miss Anwen had some Scottish blood back a few generations, though she’d lowered her voice on the word money.
“The same concept applies. Let’s say you know of a highly profitable shipping venture, but you haven’t any capital to invest at the moment—all of your money is committed. You come to me and agree that if I lend you a hundred pounds for a year, you’ll pay me back a hundred and ten pounds because you expect to make a hundred and fifty.”
“But you haven’t earned that extra ten pounds,” she said. “You simply made money off my ambitions.”
Colin turned the team for another circuit along the quieter paths. “Or I lost the entire sum as a result of your dodgy venture.”
“Hardly that. You’ll toss me into debtor’s prison if my scheme comes to nothing, have my goods seized, and probably know to the penny what I’m worth before you consider lending me a farthing.”
“What if you’re a titled lord,” Colin countered, “and I can’t toss you into debtor’s prison?”
“Then you’ll find some other way to protect your investment, or you won’t lend me the money. My orphanage cannot borrow money, Lord Colin.”
Miss Anwen had an intuitive grasp of how a loan worked, as did Edana and Rhona.
“Your orphanage can lend money,” Colin said, steering the horses to the verge and bringing them to a halt.
“The House of Urchins hasn’t money to lend. I haven’t any either.”
“Take the reins,” Colin said, passing them to her. “We’ll let the boys blow for a moment.” He climbed down and loosened the check reins enough that his geldings could steal a few mouthfuls of grass.
“You’re encouraging naughty behavior,” Miss Anwen said, passing Colin back the reins. “Horses aren’t supposed to graze while in work.”
“Did your cousin Lord Rosecroft the cavalry genius tell you that?”
“And my first equitation instructor, and every instructor, groom, stable lad, and cousin since.”
What a bloody lot of people she had telling her how to go on. “Ever stood at attention for three straight hours, Miss Anwen?”
She took off her gloves, untied her bonnet ribbons, and peeled the hat from her head.
The hat snagged on a hairpin, or a combination of hairpins. Colin intervened, carefully untangling silky locks from satin ribbons, and passing Miss Anwen several hairpins when she’d set her bonnet on the bench beside her.
“My thanks, sir.” She used the hairpins to secure a loose curl. “I’ve passed years tied to a posture board, spent hours with three books piled on my head. My finishing governess laced me so tightly I once fainted at the top of the steps. Papa discharged her, but she’d been with me six months at that point. When she left, all of my dresses had to be to let out.”
Miss Anwen turned her face up to the sun, though the phaeton sat in a quiet patch of dappled shade. She had a profile to make cameo artists weep, and the line of her throat was elegance personified.
She also had freckles. Faint, visible only if a man sat right beside her, and they could have easily been disguised with a touch of rice powder, but Anwen Windham had freckles.
Also a keen mind, and experience with physical tribulations Colin would never have suspected.
“When you took off your bonnet just now, how did it feel?”
She regarded him steadily. “Heavenly. It’s Elizabeth’s bonnet, and a touch snug when I do my hair as I have. I grabbed it by accident but didn’t want to be late for my meeting. If you weren’t sitting here, I’d…well. I will brush out my hair before changing for supper tonight.”
Colin wrapped the reins around the brake and used his teeth to pull off his right glove. He reached over to Miss Anwen’s nape and gently massaged her neck.
“How does that feel?”
She dropped her head forward, a soft sigh joining the afternoon breeze. “You ought not to touch me like that, even if we are practically family and no one is watching.”
They were not practically family. To emphasize his point—not to enjoy the exquisite feel of smooth female flesh beneath his fingers—Colin persisted for another moment.
