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Authors: Mad Marias Daughter
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Even under civilized circumstances he tended to avoid the respectable kind. They expected him to make elegant comments when they giggled and fluttered their fans.
That wasn’t his style and never had been. He’d always left the wooing to Gordon, who was the heir after all and was expected to make a proper match. Evan had spent his time with the Fashionable Impures who might sulk if he didn’t compliment them, but smiled happily enough when he presented them with baubles. That was the kind of transaction he understood.
The only reason he thought of Daphne Templeton at all was that she was the one person who could reveal his identity. He couldn’t trust such knowledge in the hands of a female. Gritting his teeth, Evan swung around and contemplated the campfire Rhys was starting.
“I’m damned sorry I started this. I’ve solved nothing.”
Rhys shrugged with his usual fatalistic nonchalance. “You didn’t have much choice. You intending to rise from the dead now? That should be a show to be seen.”
Restlessly, Evan skittered a pebble across the dry leaves. “I can’t rely on Gordon to convince her we’re one and the same. She has him wrapped about her finger already.”
His former sergeant raised a skeptical eyebrow. “What makes you think that?”
“He’s read me the riot act twice now, and his choice of adjectives is revealing. Miss Templeton is by turn a ‘delicate’ lady, ‘too sensitive’ for my crude behavior, and ‘too kind and gentle’ to be treated rudely. I wonder that he thinks he’s wooing some saint instead of a fire-breathing termagant.”
Rhys snickered. “You’re the one sitting in trees watching for a glimpse of her. Are you afraid she will catch you unawares again?”
Remembering how the female in question had looked when she shed her jacket with a gleeful smile and threw her head back to bathe her face in the sun, Evan warranted he had good excuse to spy.
He couldn’t decide whether he liked the sight of her better in tailored linen with her breasts pushing at the fine fabric and her hair caught in tight pins waiting to be plucked, or in lacy batiste with wisps of curls and feminine frills to tease his eyes. She was a torment and a temptation, and he would be wise to keep an eye on her.
“She’s too sharp by far,” Evan admitted irritably. “ Coward , she calls herself, but she identified me faster than my own brother.”
The sergeant’s grin grew more wicked. “Doesn’t that tell you anything, Captain? It’s coward you are yourself, if it don’t.”
Evan scowled. “It tells me she has a nose for trouble. Why else would she follow me into a common inn where no respectable lady goes?”
Rhys chuckled and gave his friend an almost affectionate glance. As an officer, Evan Griffin was a hard man and a demanding one, but as a friend, he was generous and loyal beyond the bounds of friendship. Unlike those of the other officers, Evan’s hands bore the calluses of hard work, and his noble features wore the evidence of harsh weather as much as those of his men, though much had faded with the passing of time and circumstance.
Evan was the kind of leader who demanded loyalty by his actions, not his words. He had personally saved the lives of several of the men here, risking his own in the process. Rough lot that they were, there wasn’t a man among them who wouldn’t lay down his life for Captain Griffin. And that bold and brave officer sat there like a besotted fool, not knowing what had hit him. Rhys chuckled again.
“Why else, indeed?” his friend repeated cheerfully, adding a bit of kindling to the fire. “Why does any young lady follow a gentleman except to get him into trouble? You have her pegged, indeed, Cap’n.”
“You’re a mincing fool if you believe that, Welshman. She was protecting my brother. Females do the strangest things in the name of love.”
“Aye, and they do that. That’s why she dumped the ale over you, ain’t it? In the name of
That wasn’t his style and never had been. He’d always left the wooing to Gordon, who was the heir after all and was expected to make a proper match. Evan had spent his time with the Fashionable Impures who might sulk if he didn’t compliment them, but smiled happily enough when he presented them with baubles. That was the kind of transaction he understood.
The only reason he thought of Daphne Templeton at all was that she was the one person who could reveal his identity. He couldn’t trust such knowledge in the hands of a female. Gritting his teeth, Evan swung around and contemplated the campfire Rhys was starting.
“I’m damned sorry I started this. I’ve solved nothing.”
Rhys shrugged with his usual fatalistic nonchalance. “You didn’t have much choice. You intending to rise from the dead now? That should be a show to be seen.”
Restlessly, Evan skittered a pebble across the dry leaves. “I can’t rely on Gordon to convince her we’re one and the same. She has him wrapped about her finger already.”
His former sergeant raised a skeptical eyebrow. “What makes you think that?”
“He’s read me the riot act twice now, and his choice of adjectives is revealing. Miss Templeton is by turn a ‘delicate’ lady, ‘too sensitive’ for my crude behavior, and ‘too kind and gentle’ to be treated rudely. I wonder that he thinks he’s wooing some saint instead of a fire-breathing termagant.”
Rhys snickered. “You’re the one sitting in trees watching for a glimpse of her. Are you afraid she will catch you unawares again?”
Remembering how the female in question had looked when she shed her jacket with a gleeful smile and threw her head back to bathe her face in the sun, Evan warranted he had good excuse to spy.
He couldn’t decide whether he liked the sight of her better in tailored linen with her breasts pushing at the fine fabric and her hair caught in tight pins waiting to be plucked, or in lacy batiste with wisps of curls and feminine frills to tease his eyes. She was a torment and a temptation, and he would be wise to keep an eye on her.
“She’s too sharp by far,” Evan admitted irritably. “ Coward , she calls herself, but she identified me faster than my own brother.”
The sergeant’s grin grew more wicked. “Doesn’t that tell you anything, Captain? It’s coward you are yourself, if it don’t.”
Evan scowled. “It tells me she has a nose for trouble. Why else would she follow me into a common inn where no respectable lady goes?”
Rhys chuckled and gave his friend an almost affectionate glance. As an officer, Evan Griffin was a hard man and a demanding one, but as a friend, he was generous and loyal beyond the bounds of friendship. Unlike those of the other officers, Evan’s hands bore the calluses of hard work, and his noble features wore the evidence of harsh weather as much as those of his men, though much had faded with the passing of time and circumstance.
Evan was the kind of leader who demanded loyalty by his actions, not his words. He had personally saved the lives of several of the men here, risking his own in the process. Rough lot that they were, there wasn’t a man among them who wouldn’t lay down his life for Captain Griffin. And that bold and brave officer sat there like a besotted fool, not knowing what had hit him. Rhys chuckled again.
“Why else, indeed?” his friend repeated cheerfully, adding a bit of kindling to the fire. “Why does any young lady follow a gentleman except to get him into trouble? You have her pegged, indeed, Cap’n.”
“You’re a mincing fool if you believe that, Welshman. She was protecting my brother. Females do the strangest things in the name of love.”
“Aye, and they do that. That’s why she dumped the ale over you, ain’t it? In the name of
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