learn to do that?” he asked.
“Do what?” She had no idea to what he was referring.
“You shock people so that they’ll forget what they were trying to wheedle out of you.”
“You were trying to wheedle something out of me?”
“Not yet,” he said, a grin forming on his lips.
“You want to wheedle something out of me.”
He cocked his head to the side as his brows drew together sternly. “I want a lot of things from you,” he said. “But I intend for you to give them to me willingly. Otherwise, I don’t want them.”
Ainsley’s heart leaped. “You have a plan?”
“A rather decisive one,” he admitted.
“Tell me about it,” she whispered.
He lowered his voice, too. “If I did that, I wouldn’t have the element of surprise, would I?” He nodded toward Cecelia’s closed door. “Where were you rushing off from?”
“Marcus,” Ainsley said on a heavy sigh. “He’s a dolt.”
“I won’t argue that.” He grinned. “What did he do that was so doltish?”
“It’s what he won’t do.” She shook her head. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me,” he said.
“Well, Cecelia is gone. And I think he should rush off to find her. To help her.”
“Does she need help?”
“More than you could ever know,” Ainsley whispered.
“Is she in danger?” His face grew serious.
“I can’t tell her secrets.” She crossed her arms and glared at him. But he didn’t turn away from her, not like men usually did. He stood his ground.
“If that’s the best you can do, you don’t stand a chance in this relationship,” he warned.
“This is a relationship?” she squeaked.
“It will be,” he said.
Ainsley’s belly dipped into her drawers. “All right,” she replied.
“All right, you’ll tell me what’s wrong?”
“No. All right, this is a relationship.” A grin tugged at her lips. She’d never wanted anything more.
“Good,” he said, slinging an arm around her shoulders as he began to lead her down the corridor.
“Shouldn’t we kiss on it to make it official?” she asked, her cheeks burning.
“Later,” he said. “Right now, we need to help Marcus.”
“How do you propose we do that?”
“We don’t. But Mother and Father will know what to do.”
Allen stopped at the morning room and stuck his head inside. “Could we talk with you for a moment?” he asked his mother. She set her embroidery to the side and motioned for them to sit.
Allen looked at Ainsley quickly.
“First, I plan to court Miss Packard,” Allen said, looking his father in the eye.
Lady Ramsdale’s face glowed as she clasped her hands to her chest.
But he rushed on. “And Marcus is an idiot. He’s in need of an intervention.”
Lady Ramsdale was slightly taken aback. “I assumed he would rush off to the land of the fae to retrieve his lady.”
Allen shook his head. “No, he’s being a bit thickheaded.”
“What else is new?” his mother asked, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger.
“He needs steering.”
“His sisters are good at steering.”
“His sisters could wrap him up in spiderwebs and haul him back to the land of the fae,” Ainsley muttered.
Lady Ramsdale snickered and held up one finger. “I believe we can do better than that.”
“I’d kind of like to see him tied up in”—he looked at Ainsley—“spiderwebs, you say?”
Ainsley nodded. “They’re tremendously sticky.”
“I can imagine,” Allen said, visibly impressed with her knowledge. She grinned.
“So, what would you like to do?” Lady Ramsdale asked her son.
“I have a plan,” Allen began slowly.
Eleven
Marcus had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He’d spent the morning with his father’s steward and the afternoon riding with the foreman in the fields, taking a look at the land. He’d met with his tenants and made a list of the things they needed. One needed another roof. And still another had a drainage problem, with standing water in his
“Do what?” She had no idea to what he was referring.
“You shock people so that they’ll forget what they were trying to wheedle out of you.”
“You were trying to wheedle something out of me?”
“Not yet,” he said, a grin forming on his lips.
“You want to wheedle something out of me.”
He cocked his head to the side as his brows drew together sternly. “I want a lot of things from you,” he said. “But I intend for you to give them to me willingly. Otherwise, I don’t want them.”
Ainsley’s heart leaped. “You have a plan?”
“A rather decisive one,” he admitted.
“Tell me about it,” she whispered.
He lowered his voice, too. “If I did that, I wouldn’t have the element of surprise, would I?” He nodded toward Cecelia’s closed door. “Where were you rushing off from?”
“Marcus,” Ainsley said on a heavy sigh. “He’s a dolt.”
“I won’t argue that.” He grinned. “What did he do that was so doltish?”
“It’s what he won’t do.” She shook her head. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me,” he said.
“Well, Cecelia is gone. And I think he should rush off to find her. To help her.”
“Does she need help?”
“More than you could ever know,” Ainsley whispered.
“Is she in danger?” His face grew serious.
“I can’t tell her secrets.” She crossed her arms and glared at him. But he didn’t turn away from her, not like men usually did. He stood his ground.
“If that’s the best you can do, you don’t stand a chance in this relationship,” he warned.
“This is a relationship?” she squeaked.
“It will be,” he said.
Ainsley’s belly dipped into her drawers. “All right,” she replied.
“All right, you’ll tell me what’s wrong?”
“No. All right, this is a relationship.” A grin tugged at her lips. She’d never wanted anything more.
“Good,” he said, slinging an arm around her shoulders as he began to lead her down the corridor.
“Shouldn’t we kiss on it to make it official?” she asked, her cheeks burning.
“Later,” he said. “Right now, we need to help Marcus.”
“How do you propose we do that?”
“We don’t. But Mother and Father will know what to do.”
Allen stopped at the morning room and stuck his head inside. “Could we talk with you for a moment?” he asked his mother. She set her embroidery to the side and motioned for them to sit.
Allen looked at Ainsley quickly.
“First, I plan to court Miss Packard,” Allen said, looking his father in the eye.
Lady Ramsdale’s face glowed as she clasped her hands to her chest.
But he rushed on. “And Marcus is an idiot. He’s in need of an intervention.”
Lady Ramsdale was slightly taken aback. “I assumed he would rush off to the land of the fae to retrieve his lady.”
Allen shook his head. “No, he’s being a bit thickheaded.”
“What else is new?” his mother asked, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger.
“He needs steering.”
“His sisters are good at steering.”
“His sisters could wrap him up in spiderwebs and haul him back to the land of the fae,” Ainsley muttered.
Lady Ramsdale snickered and held up one finger. “I believe we can do better than that.”
“I’d kind of like to see him tied up in”—he looked at Ainsley—“spiderwebs, you say?”
Ainsley nodded. “They’re tremendously sticky.”
“I can imagine,” Allen said, visibly impressed with her knowledge. She grinned.
“So, what would you like to do?” Lady Ramsdale asked her son.
“I have a plan,” Allen began slowly.
Eleven
Marcus had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He’d spent the morning with his father’s steward and the afternoon riding with the foreman in the fields, taking a look at the land. He’d met with his tenants and made a list of the things they needed. One needed another roof. And still another had a drainage problem, with standing water in his
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