Read Online Wanted: One Scoundrel by Jenny Schwartz - Free Book Online
Authors: Jenny Schwartz
Ads: Link
ticks.
Jed slammed his hat on his head and set off with long strides toward the newspaper office. That was the place to pick up the trends and gossip swirling through the colony.
Because he’d be damned if Bambury got richer on Swan River—or by wooing Esme.
Chapter Seven
“I’ve hardly seen you.” Esme bit her lip. The complaint had escaped her even though she’d promised herself—sworn by the Southern Cross in the night skies—that she’d not mention Jed’s lack of attendance.
He was, after all, doing exactly what she’d contracted him to do. Everywhere she went she heard people singing his praises—though none were quite so ridiculous in their admiration as Gupta Singh. The boy copied Jed’s style of dress, hair cut and way of walking. There was even a hint of an American drawl when Esme encountered Gupta at the Chai House in Bombaytown.
Three weeks Jed had been in Swan River, and for the last two she’d hardly seen him. He spoke in men’s clubs, at political meetings, in the town hall, coffee shops and in print. He was amiable and intelligent. He signed the letter to the editor she wrote in his name.
Match-making mamas trailed him hopefully, attending her Women’s Advancement League meetings that they had heretofore scorned.
“Never mind that,” Esme said hastily. “I’m very pleased with all your work.”
“It is work.” Jed peeled another chestnut, inhaling the nutty steam even as he burned his fingers. He’d bought them on impulse, having seen them unloaded from a skimmer-boat just in from Australia’s eastern colonies, and brought them to share with Esme, roasting them in the library fire. The sweet smokiness reminded him of Christmases at home—and he began to see the wisdom of Swan River’s midwinter celebrations: recalling old joys and creating new ones. “And some of the giggling young women—are you sure all women should have the vote?”
“I could say the same of some men,” she retorted smartly. “Empty-headed popinjays.”
“Touché.” He handed her half the peeled chestnut.
She popped it in her mouth. “Thank you.” She swallowed. “But you are convincing people, Jed. I’ll need to get more pamphlets printed. In fact, I think you should meet my printer.”
“You have too much energy.”
“It’s only early afternoon. We can catch Angus easily.”
Jed sighed and dusted chestnut debris from his fingers. “You know, when you said you’d hardly seen me, I thought we might be able to steal a quiet hour.”
“You’re too young for quiet hours. Besides, we’ve finished the chestnuts.” She shook out her skirts and checked her hair in the mirror over the fireplace. She tucked the few loose strands under her hat. In the mirror, she saw Jed move to stand behind her.
She turned inquiringly. It brought her too close to his muscled frame, but with the fire at her back, she couldn’t retreat.
“Just checking my hair,” he teased.
It was slightly tousled and she reached out without thinking, only withdrawing her hand at the last minute. She was slightly breathless. “Your hat will hide any deficiencies in your grooming.”
The teasing gleam vanished from his eyes. He regarded her steadily for several moments before stepping back in silence. As she passed him, he put a light, guiding hand on her waist.
Other gentlemen had employed the courteous gesture with her, but she’d never been so aware of the warmth of their hands. His palm branded her skin despite the layers of wool and cotton petticoats, not to mention her lightly laced corset. It was as if her senses leapt to meet him.
“Let us visit your printer,” Jed said quietly.
She nodded. Whatever had entered the library at his closeness, she was suddenly, ridiculously aware of being alone with him.
Every feminine instinct in her shrieked danger! and wanted to rush toward it.
She drew a deep breath, summoned common sense and walked into the hall.
He held her coat for her and his fingers brushed her
Jed slammed his hat on his head and set off with long strides toward the newspaper office. That was the place to pick up the trends and gossip swirling through the colony.
Because he’d be damned if Bambury got richer on Swan River—or by wooing Esme.
Chapter Seven
“I’ve hardly seen you.” Esme bit her lip. The complaint had escaped her even though she’d promised herself—sworn by the Southern Cross in the night skies—that she’d not mention Jed’s lack of attendance.
He was, after all, doing exactly what she’d contracted him to do. Everywhere she went she heard people singing his praises—though none were quite so ridiculous in their admiration as Gupta Singh. The boy copied Jed’s style of dress, hair cut and way of walking. There was even a hint of an American drawl when Esme encountered Gupta at the Chai House in Bombaytown.
Three weeks Jed had been in Swan River, and for the last two she’d hardly seen him. He spoke in men’s clubs, at political meetings, in the town hall, coffee shops and in print. He was amiable and intelligent. He signed the letter to the editor she wrote in his name.
Match-making mamas trailed him hopefully, attending her Women’s Advancement League meetings that they had heretofore scorned.
“Never mind that,” Esme said hastily. “I’m very pleased with all your work.”
“It is work.” Jed peeled another chestnut, inhaling the nutty steam even as he burned his fingers. He’d bought them on impulse, having seen them unloaded from a skimmer-boat just in from Australia’s eastern colonies, and brought them to share with Esme, roasting them in the library fire. The sweet smokiness reminded him of Christmases at home—and he began to see the wisdom of Swan River’s midwinter celebrations: recalling old joys and creating new ones. “And some of the giggling young women—are you sure all women should have the vote?”
“I could say the same of some men,” she retorted smartly. “Empty-headed popinjays.”
“Touché.” He handed her half the peeled chestnut.
She popped it in her mouth. “Thank you.” She swallowed. “But you are convincing people, Jed. I’ll need to get more pamphlets printed. In fact, I think you should meet my printer.”
“You have too much energy.”
“It’s only early afternoon. We can catch Angus easily.”
Jed sighed and dusted chestnut debris from his fingers. “You know, when you said you’d hardly seen me, I thought we might be able to steal a quiet hour.”
“You’re too young for quiet hours. Besides, we’ve finished the chestnuts.” She shook out her skirts and checked her hair in the mirror over the fireplace. She tucked the few loose strands under her hat. In the mirror, she saw Jed move to stand behind her.
She turned inquiringly. It brought her too close to his muscled frame, but with the fire at her back, she couldn’t retreat.
“Just checking my hair,” he teased.
It was slightly tousled and she reached out without thinking, only withdrawing her hand at the last minute. She was slightly breathless. “Your hat will hide any deficiencies in your grooming.”
The teasing gleam vanished from his eyes. He regarded her steadily for several moments before stepping back in silence. As she passed him, he put a light, guiding hand on her waist.
Other gentlemen had employed the courteous gesture with her, but she’d never been so aware of the warmth of their hands. His palm branded her skin despite the layers of wool and cotton petticoats, not to mention her lightly laced corset. It was as if her senses leapt to meet him.
“Let us visit your printer,” Jed said quietly.
She nodded. Whatever had entered the library at his closeness, she was suddenly, ridiculously aware of being alone with him.
Every feminine instinct in her shrieked danger! and wanted to rush toward it.
She drew a deep breath, summoned common sense and walked into the hall.
He held her coat for her and his fingers brushed her
Similar Books
