Page 7 of My Favorite Mistake
“No.”
“For your sister, perhaps?”
“You’re awfully interested, Red.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “The point is, you already have a sweetheart. And I doubt she’d like for you to goshowing me ’round the village.”
“I don’t have a sweetheart. No, really,” he said when she rolled her eyes. “I did buy it for the gal I fancy. But we don’t have any understanding. I’m free to spend the day with you.”
“That’s a pretty fine hair to split. And I don’t seem to recall agreeing to spend the day with you.”
“Come on, Red. You know you want to.” Fanny gave him her signature death glare, the one that said he could jump right off a cliff, and the ones she had in mind were the White Cliffs of Dover.
But Nick Cradduck was apparently proof against her death glare because the blasted man threw his head back and laughed. “There’s no use in denying it,” he said, leaning in. “I already caught you slavering over me.”
The heat rose to her cheeks. Oh, it was a misery being a redhead sometimes! Her face was probably as red as that peddler’s wagon. “I wasn’tslaveringover you.”
“Got a touch of the palsy, then? In which case, you’ll need me toshowyou the way to Dr. Brisley’s house.” He hooked his arm through hers, and a shudder rippled through her whole body. He grinned that smug grin again as he tugged her forward. “Oh, no. You don’t like me at all.”
Fanny sighed. Better to face it head-on. “You clearly know that you’re an exceptionally handsome man.”
“Exceptionallyhandsome, am I?” He nudged her with his elbow. “Go on, then.”
She tried to kick him in the shin, but he dodged out of the way, laughing the whole time. Giving up, she let him lead her on. “I’m surprised you even noticed. Surely you must be used to that sort of thing.”
“You think I’m used to women standing there slack jawed, staring at me like I’m a cherry batter pudding and they’re starving to death?”
She tried to yank her arm back, but he clamped down. “All right, all right. I’ll stop teasing you.”
Fanny pinched the bridge of her nose. “Why are you even doing this? Why not just let me go?”
“For one thing, I need your help picking out a few more presents.”
“For your sister?”
“I don’t have a sister. What I have is a—”
“No, don’t tell me,” Fanny said, covering her ears. “I’m just going to pretend they’re for your sister. Although, who’s to say this gal will even like what I’d pick?”
“Oh, I have a feeling she will.”
She peered up at him. Beneath the sinfully good looks and the supreme masculine cockiness, something else lingered beneath the surface. A trace of sweat at his temple. A tightness at the corners of his mouth.
An earnestness about his eyes.
That earnestness was the thing that swayed her. “Fine, then. But if I’m going to waste my day with you, you can make yourself useful and buy me a couple of those sausages that have my mouth watering.”
“Am I allowed to make the obvious joke about having the sausage you’re slaverin’ for right here?”
She poked him in the shoulder. “No! Don’t make me change my mind, Nick Cradduck.”
“Fine,” he said with an aggrieved sigh. “Can I at least know the name of the gal I’m buying sausages for?”
“Fanny.” She cut her eyes to him warily. “Fanny Price.”
“Fanny Price.” There was something about the way he said her name. Fanny wasn’t such a sentimental fool to imagine he was savoring her name, treasuring it.
But he said it as if it were something important, something he wanted to remember. And she could have sworn that trace of earnestness flashed across his eyes again, then was gone in an instant.
