with all the elegance of
royalty.
Oh, it would be quite glorious. Almost as lovely as a London
soiree. Her eyelids drifted closed, imagining.
Boot steps crunched on the graveled path behind her.
“You make a picture, lass. What is it that has you dreaming?”
Jeannette startled at the words and the deep, musical voice that
glided over her like the stroke of a broad, soothing hand. The tone was warm
and rich and full of Irish guile. An invisible shiver rippled through her as
though he had actually touched her.
Her eyes popped open. And there he stood, her nemesis, Darragh
O’Brien. Today he was dressed in tan trousers, white shirt and lightweight fawn
jacket, the cut and quality better, more tailored than some of his other
clothing. For him, he looked almost dressed up. A lock of his dark hair curled
across his forehead in a way that made her want to reach up and smooth it back.
An absurd idea.
Confounded man.
Could she never go anywhere without his appearing? Well, just
because he had spoken to her didn’t mean she had to offer more than a
perfunctory greeting, then continue on her way. After her last two encounters
with him, she had no interest in remaining long in his presence, especially if
that dog of his was anywhere nearby.
At the thought, she scanned her surroundings, half expecting the
enormous creature to dash out from behind a bush and pounce.
“He isn’t here,” O’Brien said as if he’d read her mind. “Vitruvius
is back at the house where I’m staying, though neither he nor the housekeeper
were too keen on the idea when I left him there at midday.”
“Are you sure you’ll have a housekeeper when you return? If she
hasn’t quit before, a day alone with that great lummox should do the job.”
He showed her his white teeth. “Not to worry, Mrs. Ryan is wise to
all the lad’s tricks, and if he’s gotten into her bad graces today, I’ll find
him tied up in the rear yard, pouting and sad-eyed for the scolding. He’ll be
wanting an extra half hour’s attention at the very least to settle his mood.”
Spoiled canine, she thought. No wonder the dog needed obedience
training.
“So I haven’t seen you out and about in several days.” O’Brien
tucked his right hand into his trousers’ pocket. “Have you been hiding?”
“Not at all,” she rushed to assure. “I have been getting
acquainted with my cousins and do not generally venture out until late in the
afternoon.”
“Once my crew has gone home, you mean. Or is it only myself you’ve
been trying to avoid?”
She let out a tinkling laugh. “Now, why would I want to do such a
thing? Doing that would require me to think of you, Mr. O’Brien, and I assure
you I have far better ways to occupy my time.”
Despite her statement, a grin appeared on his mouth, letting her
know he knew the truth.
She decided it best to change the subject. “But speaking of your
crew, I had hoped that by now you might see reason.”
He crossed his arms over his solid chest. “Reason about what?”
“Letting a lady get a little rest in the morning. Your workers
begin far too early and make far too much noise.”
He shrugged. “So you’ve already said. The noise can’t be helped,
I’m afraid, since the building of houses isn’t a silent occupation.”
“But you could make adjustments if you wished. Another man would
understand and feel some sympathy. He would not be so heartless.”
Darragh barked out a laugh. “Another man would soon find himself
out of a job if he did as you ask. I’ve plenty of heart, lass, it’s just my
head that isn’t soft.”
“You’re right about that. Your head is as hard as they come.”
He smiled widely, eyes sparkling blue as the azure sky above.
She drew in a quick breath, her pulse doing a jig.
Blast him,
why did he have to be so handsome? A man of his sort shouldn’t have the right.
And what was wrong with her? Responding to him, even though her blood boiled at
their every encounter. She couldn’t
royalty.
Oh, it would be quite glorious. Almost as lovely as a London
soiree. Her eyelids drifted closed, imagining.
Boot steps crunched on the graveled path behind her.
“You make a picture, lass. What is it that has you dreaming?”
Jeannette startled at the words and the deep, musical voice that
glided over her like the stroke of a broad, soothing hand. The tone was warm
and rich and full of Irish guile. An invisible shiver rippled through her as
though he had actually touched her.
Her eyes popped open. And there he stood, her nemesis, Darragh
O’Brien. Today he was dressed in tan trousers, white shirt and lightweight fawn
jacket, the cut and quality better, more tailored than some of his other
clothing. For him, he looked almost dressed up. A lock of his dark hair curled
across his forehead in a way that made her want to reach up and smooth it back.
An absurd idea.
Confounded man.
Could she never go anywhere without his appearing? Well, just
because he had spoken to her didn’t mean she had to offer more than a
perfunctory greeting, then continue on her way. After her last two encounters
with him, she had no interest in remaining long in his presence, especially if
that dog of his was anywhere nearby.
At the thought, she scanned her surroundings, half expecting the
enormous creature to dash out from behind a bush and pounce.
“He isn’t here,” O’Brien said as if he’d read her mind. “Vitruvius
is back at the house where I’m staying, though neither he nor the housekeeper
were too keen on the idea when I left him there at midday.”
“Are you sure you’ll have a housekeeper when you return? If she
hasn’t quit before, a day alone with that great lummox should do the job.”
He showed her his white teeth. “Not to worry, Mrs. Ryan is wise to
all the lad’s tricks, and if he’s gotten into her bad graces today, I’ll find
him tied up in the rear yard, pouting and sad-eyed for the scolding. He’ll be
wanting an extra half hour’s attention at the very least to settle his mood.”
Spoiled canine, she thought. No wonder the dog needed obedience
training.
“So I haven’t seen you out and about in several days.” O’Brien
tucked his right hand into his trousers’ pocket. “Have you been hiding?”
“Not at all,” she rushed to assure. “I have been getting
acquainted with my cousins and do not generally venture out until late in the
afternoon.”
“Once my crew has gone home, you mean. Or is it only myself you’ve
been trying to avoid?”
She let out a tinkling laugh. “Now, why would I want to do such a
thing? Doing that would require me to think of you, Mr. O’Brien, and I assure
you I have far better ways to occupy my time.”
Despite her statement, a grin appeared on his mouth, letting her
know he knew the truth.
She decided it best to change the subject. “But speaking of your
crew, I had hoped that by now you might see reason.”
He crossed his arms over his solid chest. “Reason about what?”
“Letting a lady get a little rest in the morning. Your workers
begin far too early and make far too much noise.”
He shrugged. “So you’ve already said. The noise can’t be helped,
I’m afraid, since the building of houses isn’t a silent occupation.”
“But you could make adjustments if you wished. Another man would
understand and feel some sympathy. He would not be so heartless.”
Darragh barked out a laugh. “Another man would soon find himself
out of a job if he did as you ask. I’ve plenty of heart, lass, it’s just my
head that isn’t soft.”
“You’re right about that. Your head is as hard as they come.”
He smiled widely, eyes sparkling blue as the azure sky above.
She drew in a quick breath, her pulse doing a jig.
Blast him,
why did he have to be so handsome? A man of his sort shouldn’t have the right.
And what was wrong with her? Responding to him, even though her blood boiled at
their every encounter. She couldn’t
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