provide the protection that the ladies require. I’ll do it.”
“To h—Hades with you,” Stevens snarled. “In fact, to Hades with this entire—”
“I’ll do it,” Robert said.
At the sound of his voice, they all turned to look at him. Miss Pursling’s eyes widened; Doctor Grantham looked at him quizzically. But Stevens turned utterly pale.
“Surely,” Robert said, “you don’t suspect me of radical tendencies, do you, Stevens?”
“Your Grace!” Stevens shot to his feet. “Of course not, Your Grace. But we wouldn’t dream of discommoding you. And…and, what are you doing here?”
Robert waved the question away. “No inconvenience. It will give me a chance to see the town on foot.”
Miss Pursling shot him a repressive look.
“Miss Pursling has gone to all the trouble of convincing the Cooperative to sell this solution at a good price,” Robert said. “It would be my pleasure to see all her hard work vindicated.”
If anything, Miss Pursling looked vexed at having credit so clearly assigned to her.
But—“Agreed,” said Doctor Grantham.
“Agreed,” growled Stevens.
And that left only the details to sort out with Miss Pursling. She gave him only the one venomous look before looking off into the distance and folding her hands. She didn’t glance his way again through the remainder of the discussion—not even to glare at him. She didn’t acknowledge him as they stood. Instead, she started to gather up her things.
He came up to her before she had a chance to disappear.
“Shall I send a note, then, to determine an appropriate time to distribute the handbills?”
She didn’t look at him, putting papers and a pencil into a slim satchel. “If it suits you, Your Grace.”
“We could decide it now.”
“If that is your wish, Your Grace.”
She was pointedly giving him her profile—the side with the scar again. Objectively, he knew that the scar was the kind of failure in perfect symmetry that would have most men looking away from her, unwilling to even glance at the mark. But it didn’t bother him. She wore it like a mask at a ball, as if she could use it to push him away.
“I am going to be out of town for the next few days,” he told her. “I’ve agreed to accompany my cousin…well, never mind.”
Miss Pursling ducked her head. “As you require, Your Grace. The corrected handbills won’t be printed for a few days in any event.”
“Shall we say Thursday, then?”
“Whatever is easiest for you.”
“Then let’s meet at two in the morning,” he suggested. “When the bears come out to play.”
She finally glanced up at that, a quick flashing look of anger that was just as quickly suppressed. Robert sighed. She did her best not to draw attention to herself—that quiet voice, that understated way of discussing her accomplishments. He wondered if there was any connection between that mark on her cheek and her reticence. Hers was not the quiet of the naturally shy, after all, but a silence of a different quality altogether.
“Come, Miss Pursling,” he said. “You can do better than all of this. I didn’t think you were the sort to make idle threats.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” She turned away from him slightly. And was that a lift to her nose?
It was. She’d actually turned her nose up at him.
Robert suppressed a grin.
“We had a deal,” he said. He spoke low—so quietly that Doctor Grantham, now standing at the door and adjusting his coat, would not hear. “I flirt with you, and you try to destroy my reputation. You’re not upholding your end of the bargain. You haven’t done anything to me at all. I never took you for a welcher.”
She tilted her head to look at him sidelong. “A thousand pardons, Your Grace.” She sounded anything but sorry. “Were you actually expecting me to give you progress reports?” As she spoke she did up the buckles on her satchel.
“I figured you’d get a few preliminary jabs in, yes.”
She gave him
“To h—Hades with you,” Stevens snarled. “In fact, to Hades with this entire—”
“I’ll do it,” Robert said.
At the sound of his voice, they all turned to look at him. Miss Pursling’s eyes widened; Doctor Grantham looked at him quizzically. But Stevens turned utterly pale.
“Surely,” Robert said, “you don’t suspect me of radical tendencies, do you, Stevens?”
“Your Grace!” Stevens shot to his feet. “Of course not, Your Grace. But we wouldn’t dream of discommoding you. And…and, what are you doing here?”
Robert waved the question away. “No inconvenience. It will give me a chance to see the town on foot.”
Miss Pursling shot him a repressive look.
“Miss Pursling has gone to all the trouble of convincing the Cooperative to sell this solution at a good price,” Robert said. “It would be my pleasure to see all her hard work vindicated.”
If anything, Miss Pursling looked vexed at having credit so clearly assigned to her.
But—“Agreed,” said Doctor Grantham.
“Agreed,” growled Stevens.
And that left only the details to sort out with Miss Pursling. She gave him only the one venomous look before looking off into the distance and folding her hands. She didn’t glance his way again through the remainder of the discussion—not even to glare at him. She didn’t acknowledge him as they stood. Instead, she started to gather up her things.
He came up to her before she had a chance to disappear.
“Shall I send a note, then, to determine an appropriate time to distribute the handbills?”
She didn’t look at him, putting papers and a pencil into a slim satchel. “If it suits you, Your Grace.”
“We could decide it now.”
“If that is your wish, Your Grace.”
She was pointedly giving him her profile—the side with the scar again. Objectively, he knew that the scar was the kind of failure in perfect symmetry that would have most men looking away from her, unwilling to even glance at the mark. But it didn’t bother him. She wore it like a mask at a ball, as if she could use it to push him away.
“I am going to be out of town for the next few days,” he told her. “I’ve agreed to accompany my cousin…well, never mind.”
Miss Pursling ducked her head. “As you require, Your Grace. The corrected handbills won’t be printed for a few days in any event.”
“Shall we say Thursday, then?”
“Whatever is easiest for you.”
“Then let’s meet at two in the morning,” he suggested. “When the bears come out to play.”
She finally glanced up at that, a quick flashing look of anger that was just as quickly suppressed. Robert sighed. She did her best not to draw attention to herself—that quiet voice, that understated way of discussing her accomplishments. He wondered if there was any connection between that mark on her cheek and her reticence. Hers was not the quiet of the naturally shy, after all, but a silence of a different quality altogether.
“Come, Miss Pursling,” he said. “You can do better than all of this. I didn’t think you were the sort to make idle threats.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” She turned away from him slightly. And was that a lift to her nose?
It was. She’d actually turned her nose up at him.
Robert suppressed a grin.
“We had a deal,” he said. He spoke low—so quietly that Doctor Grantham, now standing at the door and adjusting his coat, would not hear. “I flirt with you, and you try to destroy my reputation. You’re not upholding your end of the bargain. You haven’t done anything to me at all. I never took you for a welcher.”
She tilted her head to look at him sidelong. “A thousand pardons, Your Grace.” She sounded anything but sorry. “Were you actually expecting me to give you progress reports?” As she spoke she did up the buckles on her satchel.
“I figured you’d get a few preliminary jabs in, yes.”
She gave him
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