Page 9 of Kiss Me Lady One More Time
“It’s my mother’s work.”
“It’s very fine. Both lovely and practical.” He admired the main illustration and the smaller sketches about it, detailed images of the foliage, bloom and bud. “I’ve heard of your mother’s skill. I am glad indeed to possess so fine an example.”
“Yes,” she said wryly as she stepped up into the driver’s seat of her gig. “My mother has a great many skills.”
He gave the rolled sheet to the groom and asked him to send it up to his room, while she took up the reins with practiced ease.
“Thank you for the idea of creating lavender honey,” she said as they set out and moved past the house. “Hope is quite excited. She’s sure she can interest some shopkeepers in the local market towns in carrying a product like that.”
He nodded. “You’re welcome. You would have come to the idea on your own. I was only quicker to see it because I’m on the outside of your operations.”
He felt her gaze settle on him. “Then you’ve no objection to a woman running a business?”
He met her gaze, startled. “Why would I?”
“For the same reason that you did not wish for my help in your investigation, perhaps?”
She’d raised her brow and though he knew she was needling him, he could not gather his thoughts enough to parry her conversational thrust. He was too busy drinking in the sight of her. Sun and shade ebbed like a current over her small form and the color of her spencer deepened the green of her eyes. Eventually, though, he noticed the sardonic look they directed his way.
“The two situations are not the same at all,” he managed to get out.
“Are they not?”
“No. Women run shops and inns and businesses in Town and across England. They do a perfectly fine job of it, too. But they are not noblewomen.”
“Neither am I.”
“Nor are they of the gentry.” He ducked a branch and edged Scylla closer to her gig. The road narrowed through here. “Neither are they involved in the search for violent and perhaps ruthless men.”
“I think you underestimate the average woman’s experience with ruthless men,” she grumbled.
“I hope you have not encountered any.”
“Every woman has,” she said simply. “Young and old and of every class.”
“That is a discouraging sentiment. But it only makes me more determined not to expose you further.”
“And you should not discount the notion, either, that sometimes women are disreputable and ruthless.” She cocked her head at him. “Have you considered, in fact, that the person who organized the theft of Tensford’s fossil might be a woman?”
“Of course, I have not.” He huffed out a sigh. The whole conversation was making him cranky. He couldn’t think past the idea of her confronting rude or disrespectful men. Just imagining it made his blood boil. Damn it all, now he wanted to stab something. Someone.
This was not his usual, calm and logical demeanor. Another reason why he should likely avoid her altogether. They were adding up. And not the least of them was the way she distracted him. Tempted him. Made him forget how far apart their situations were.
“You know, we are not so different, you and I,” she said, almost as if she could read the direction of his thoughts.
She was right. He’d never met a girl who was actually interested in the things that fascinated him. Who could converse on nature and science and the philosophy of both. She was intelligent, insightful, and damn-it-all-to-hell, not for him.
“You are right,” he agreed. “We share certain qualities. Unfortunately, it is our differences that carry the most weight.”
She straightened on her driver’s seat. “What differences are those?”
“You are young and lovely and prime for a Season. You are poised perfectly to embark upon courtship and romance, marriage and family.” A weight settled over his chest as he stared at her. “I daresay you will be brilliant at all of it,” he said thickly.
Her face softened at the compliment. “Thank you. And you?” she asked gently.
The heaviness sunk in, invading his soul, solidifying in his bones. “I am nowhere near any of it.” He swallowed and urged his mount ahead, where the road forked. “On second consideration, I think it will be faster if I ride around the village and beyond.” He tipped his hat. “Good day to you, Miss Munroe.”
He took the fork and kicked Scylla into a gallop, cursing himself for the coward he was.
