expression.
If he hadn’t seen the transformation for himself, he’d not have believed it possible. But he had seen it and by hell, she was an attractive woman when she let herself go. His body had woken up for the first time in months at the sight of her flushed, indignant face, soft female curves and that mass of shining, wavy hair. He’d welcomed the revival of feeling in his lower body because he’d been rather worried about that aspect of his life.
Inside the front room she indicated a comfortable chair. “I’ll go and make the tea.”
“I’ll join you in the kitchen if I may. I’m better on a more upright chair at the moment.”
She suddenly noticed the bruise on his chin and then glanced down at his knuckles, which were grazed. The tight expression vanished and she hurried over to him.
“You’re hurt!” She picked up his hand to examine it.
He felt a warmth run up his arm and she must have felt something too, because she slowly raised her eyes to his with a puzzled look, which made him realise she wasn’t used to reacting to a man. Was the dowdiness used as armour to keep them away? If so, why? “It’s nothing,” he said when the silence had gone on for too long.
She let go of his hand. “You must let me bathe that for you. We don’t want it getting infected. I’ll start the tea brewing first.”
He sat down and leaned back, enjoying watching her. She had a neat way of moving, her hands sure on the teapot and kettle, though she hesitated for a moment when searching for cups.
“I’m still finding my way around,” she confessed, as if she knew what he was thinking.
“What brought you here? It’s not the sort of place I’d expect to find Fleming’s daughter.”
“Oh. Well. Now that I’ve turned thirty my inheritance has come into my own hands. Or it should have.” Her expression turned angry and her cheeks became slightly rosier. “My father’s been managing things for me and it seems he’s sold the other cottages without telling me, and was about to sell this one, too. Only I never signed anything, so how can he have done that?”
“Redway will know the ins and outs of it all, I’m sure.”
“I hope so because I’ve nowhere else to live and not much money.” She blushed. “I—um—left my father’s house the day after my birthday, you see. I don’t—get on with him. I’m supposed to have inherited an income as well as some cottages, but I need somewhere to live temporarily. If I can’t stay here, I don’t know what I’ll do. But I’m not going back to live with him again, not now that my mother is dead.”
She hesitated and added, “I could tell yesterday that you don’t like him—not many people do, actually—and that you didn’t want anything to do with me because of him. Well, I don’t like him, either. All I want is to go and live somewhere peaceful, make a few friends and get a dog, perhaps. I like dogs.”
He was touched by the picture she painted and by the way her voice softened as she confided these modest dreams. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have judged you by him.”
“Can I ask what he’s done to upset you?”
“The main thing is that he encouraged my cousin Lawrence to gamble and get into debt. Who knows what else he’s done, however? He has a reputation in the town for being a difficult man.”
“Yes. Difficult to live with, too. He’s always frightened me.” She poured some hot water into a bowl and brought it across to bathe Marcus’s hand. She also dabbed at his forehead, an activity which brought her very close to him. He could feel her soft breaths against his skin and her hands were gentle as she cleaned. He was sorry when she stopped. Women’s hands could be very . . . soothing.
“There, I think they’re all clean now.”
“Thank you.”
She went to pour away the dirty water. “How do you take your tea?”
“White, no sugar.”
She nodded and began filling his cup. She seemed to be regretting her confidences,
If he hadn’t seen the transformation for himself, he’d not have believed it possible. But he had seen it and by hell, she was an attractive woman when she let herself go. His body had woken up for the first time in months at the sight of her flushed, indignant face, soft female curves and that mass of shining, wavy hair. He’d welcomed the revival of feeling in his lower body because he’d been rather worried about that aspect of his life.
Inside the front room she indicated a comfortable chair. “I’ll go and make the tea.”
“I’ll join you in the kitchen if I may. I’m better on a more upright chair at the moment.”
She suddenly noticed the bruise on his chin and then glanced down at his knuckles, which were grazed. The tight expression vanished and she hurried over to him.
“You’re hurt!” She picked up his hand to examine it.
He felt a warmth run up his arm and she must have felt something too, because she slowly raised her eyes to his with a puzzled look, which made him realise she wasn’t used to reacting to a man. Was the dowdiness used as armour to keep them away? If so, why? “It’s nothing,” he said when the silence had gone on for too long.
She let go of his hand. “You must let me bathe that for you. We don’t want it getting infected. I’ll start the tea brewing first.”
He sat down and leaned back, enjoying watching her. She had a neat way of moving, her hands sure on the teapot and kettle, though she hesitated for a moment when searching for cups.
“I’m still finding my way around,” she confessed, as if she knew what he was thinking.
“What brought you here? It’s not the sort of place I’d expect to find Fleming’s daughter.”
“Oh. Well. Now that I’ve turned thirty my inheritance has come into my own hands. Or it should have.” Her expression turned angry and her cheeks became slightly rosier. “My father’s been managing things for me and it seems he’s sold the other cottages without telling me, and was about to sell this one, too. Only I never signed anything, so how can he have done that?”
“Redway will know the ins and outs of it all, I’m sure.”
“I hope so because I’ve nowhere else to live and not much money.” She blushed. “I—um—left my father’s house the day after my birthday, you see. I don’t—get on with him. I’m supposed to have inherited an income as well as some cottages, but I need somewhere to live temporarily. If I can’t stay here, I don’t know what I’ll do. But I’m not going back to live with him again, not now that my mother is dead.”
She hesitated and added, “I could tell yesterday that you don’t like him—not many people do, actually—and that you didn’t want anything to do with me because of him. Well, I don’t like him, either. All I want is to go and live somewhere peaceful, make a few friends and get a dog, perhaps. I like dogs.”
He was touched by the picture she painted and by the way her voice softened as she confided these modest dreams. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have judged you by him.”
“Can I ask what he’s done to upset you?”
“The main thing is that he encouraged my cousin Lawrence to gamble and get into debt. Who knows what else he’s done, however? He has a reputation in the town for being a difficult man.”
“Yes. Difficult to live with, too. He’s always frightened me.” She poured some hot water into a bowl and brought it across to bathe Marcus’s hand. She also dabbed at his forehead, an activity which brought her very close to him. He could feel her soft breaths against his skin and her hands were gentle as she cleaned. He was sorry when she stopped. Women’s hands could be very . . . soothing.
“There, I think they’re all clean now.”
“Thank you.”
She went to pour away the dirty water. “How do you take your tea?”
“White, no sugar.”
She nodded and began filling his cup. She seemed to be regretting her confidences,
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