fall. Your fears were as groundless then as they are now."
The compelling warmth in his eyes, which he made no attempt to conceal, flustered her more than she cared to admit. She hastened into speech. "What of your family? Were you born and raised in Oxfordshire?" And she moved off, though she could not shake free of his grasp. He kept pace with her.
"Yes. I am the oldest and the only son in a family of five. Only my youngest sister is at home. The others are all married and have moved away."
"Four girls? I'll wager you were spoiled rotten," she said with so much smugness that Deveryn was constrained to smile.
"Now why do you say so?"
She grinned. "It shows!"
"In what way?" he demanded, and Maddie could not be sure if the indignation in his voice was real or feigned.
"You're so sure of yourself. You think the sun rises and sets at your whim. I'll bet you were never beaten as a child! I can just see it now—you like an eastern potentate with the girls in your family waiting with baited breath for some small suggestion to fall from your lips. I'm sure you never suffered from a lack of bedsocks!" she finished cryptically. "Well, am I right?"
He laughed. "You wretched girl! Closer than comfort! But my sisters call me Jason, as I wish you would, though only in private of course till I speak with your guardian. But that last remark about bedsocks is completely mystifying. What can you mean by it?"
Maddie ignored the allusion to her guardian and stated gaily, "Ladies are always busy with their needles, and fathers and brothers are usually the recipients of their efforts, so it seems to me."
"Not in my family! My mother and sisters are strangers to the domestic arts, more's the pity. Not one of them can sew a fine seam. They're bluestockings, every one of them." He went on in an outrageous undertone. "I'll leave it to you to spoil me with handmade slippers and gloves and so on. But Maddie, no bedsocks, if you please."
She ignored this further provocation and merely observed, "It's obvious you've never lived through a Scottish winter. If you had, you'd know that bedsocks are man's greatest invention after the wheel. What's a bluestocking?"
"What? Oh, it's a term to describe clever women, like my mother and sisters. You know, those ladies who eschew silk stockings and so on because their minds are set on higher things!"
"Don't you like clever women?"
"They bore me to death—with the exception of my mother and sisters, of course," he added as an afterthought.
Maddie's expression was arrested. "How odd!" she said, and lapsed into a meditative silence. After a moment she asked tentatively, "You're not much interested in books and so on, I take it?"
"Certainly I am. But one wants something quite different in the conversation of a woman. Intelligence is necessary, of course, that goes without saying. But what man wants a steady diet of intellectual prosing?"
She could not suppress a smile. "Very few, I should imagine. It must be very difficult for you living in a household of bluestockings."
"Save your pity! I haven't lived at home in years. Besides, my sisters are mostly married and looking after their own households now. So my father has only two clever women to manage—my mother and young Sophie."
It was more the tone of his conversation than the words themselves which conveyed an impression of a close-knit family which looked with a tolerant eye upon the foibles of its individual members. Maddie could not help remembering her own lonely childhood.
"I always wanted a sister," she said wistfully.
"You'll have four of them, very soon, I promise you."
For a moment, a very fleeting moment, she surrendered to the temptation and imagined herself as part of a family such as Deveryn had described. It seemed to Maddie that she would have everything she had ever wanted in her life. She would also have Deveryn, the man who had wronged her father.
She pulled herself together and said mendaciously, "Thank you for the offer.
The compelling warmth in his eyes, which he made no attempt to conceal, flustered her more than she cared to admit. She hastened into speech. "What of your family? Were you born and raised in Oxfordshire?" And she moved off, though she could not shake free of his grasp. He kept pace with her.
"Yes. I am the oldest and the only son in a family of five. Only my youngest sister is at home. The others are all married and have moved away."
"Four girls? I'll wager you were spoiled rotten," she said with so much smugness that Deveryn was constrained to smile.
"Now why do you say so?"
She grinned. "It shows!"
"In what way?" he demanded, and Maddie could not be sure if the indignation in his voice was real or feigned.
"You're so sure of yourself. You think the sun rises and sets at your whim. I'll bet you were never beaten as a child! I can just see it now—you like an eastern potentate with the girls in your family waiting with baited breath for some small suggestion to fall from your lips. I'm sure you never suffered from a lack of bedsocks!" she finished cryptically. "Well, am I right?"
He laughed. "You wretched girl! Closer than comfort! But my sisters call me Jason, as I wish you would, though only in private of course till I speak with your guardian. But that last remark about bedsocks is completely mystifying. What can you mean by it?"
Maddie ignored the allusion to her guardian and stated gaily, "Ladies are always busy with their needles, and fathers and brothers are usually the recipients of their efforts, so it seems to me."
"Not in my family! My mother and sisters are strangers to the domestic arts, more's the pity. Not one of them can sew a fine seam. They're bluestockings, every one of them." He went on in an outrageous undertone. "I'll leave it to you to spoil me with handmade slippers and gloves and so on. But Maddie, no bedsocks, if you please."
She ignored this further provocation and merely observed, "It's obvious you've never lived through a Scottish winter. If you had, you'd know that bedsocks are man's greatest invention after the wheel. What's a bluestocking?"
"What? Oh, it's a term to describe clever women, like my mother and sisters. You know, those ladies who eschew silk stockings and so on because their minds are set on higher things!"
"Don't you like clever women?"
"They bore me to death—with the exception of my mother and sisters, of course," he added as an afterthought.
Maddie's expression was arrested. "How odd!" she said, and lapsed into a meditative silence. After a moment she asked tentatively, "You're not much interested in books and so on, I take it?"
"Certainly I am. But one wants something quite different in the conversation of a woman. Intelligence is necessary, of course, that goes without saying. But what man wants a steady diet of intellectual prosing?"
She could not suppress a smile. "Very few, I should imagine. It must be very difficult for you living in a household of bluestockings."
"Save your pity! I haven't lived at home in years. Besides, my sisters are mostly married and looking after their own households now. So my father has only two clever women to manage—my mother and young Sophie."
It was more the tone of his conversation than the words themselves which conveyed an impression of a close-knit family which looked with a tolerant eye upon the foibles of its individual members. Maddie could not help remembering her own lonely childhood.
"I always wanted a sister," she said wistfully.
"You'll have four of them, very soon, I promise you."
For a moment, a very fleeting moment, she surrendered to the temptation and imagined herself as part of a family such as Deveryn had described. It seemed to Maddie that she would have everything she had ever wanted in her life. She would also have Deveryn, the man who had wronged her father.
She pulled herself together and said mendaciously, "Thank you for the offer.
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