He stood up, clapped his hand atop a machine and towered over her. He resisted the urge to reach out and brush a wisp of dark hair from her lovely neck. What a sight it would be to see the obsidian waterfall tumble to her hips. “Bring me good news, Fiona, not a speech. If I want a sermon, I’ll go to Midnight Mass.” She was working herself into a terrible temper that he so adored. He studied her backside. Soft-as-sin curves, soft andplump as bread dough and ripe enough to bear him many fine wee’uns.
Fiona swung around, caught his admiring examination of her. “Mother of God, you’d charm my chemise off if I weren’t vigilant. As bold as brass you are. And arrogant to a fault. I’ve lost weight with all my worries, and you do not care one bit.”
“Not one bit, you say!” The Irishman pounded his chest with his meaty fist. “Cupid’s arrow has struck and I’m helpless as the Hound of Culann fated to meet Fand, the wife of the sea god.” He narrowed his eyes. “Why aren’t you married, Fiona?”
“I’ve enough of your devil’s tongue. And you know what happened to Culann.”
“To suffer the same fate at your hands?” He looked to the heavens, and with a theatrical overture born to the Irish, said, “Thy will be done.” And then he took two steps to Fiona an inch from her face. “Will you lay over my grave when I’m gone?”
Like sapphire beacons, Fiona’s blue eyes spit fire. “I’d have nothing to do with a skunk slinking through the grass. What is it?” she huffed. “Is that a proposal or should I call my brother?”
O’Reilly reared his head. His ribs hurt so bad from suppressing his laughter. “Fiona, dear. I do not wish to marry your brother. With him, soft words would butter no turnips.”
Fiona fisted her hands on her hips. “You know what I mean.”
“Do I now? You are in my heart, and I give it to you rent free.”
Fiona tapped her toe. “And? Are you going to say the right words before the Second Coming arrives?”
O’Reilly looked at his feet in feigned defeat. “I’m getting to it, Woman. I’m fearful of rejection.”
Fiona softened. “I doubt that. You are born with the eternal gift of eloquence. Now, out with it.”
“Ah, that dawning day, I saw you first and knew the danger. I was taken in by a beauty who enchanted me in every way. I will love you when you are old and gray and full of sleep. I’ll alwayshold the gentle look in your eyes as glowing stars and keep your tender, beaming smile to light my day. I lay my heart at your dainty feet. Fiona Maguire, will you marry me?”
She threw herself into his arms, kissing him. “Of course, you lout.”
Chapter Thirty
Mrs. Merriweather rose and took Chen’s hands, smiling to Anhe. “I’m so glad you are here. Chen, you can translate for me with Miss Li. Tell her I’m thrilled to have finally found someone skilled with a needle. My gowns are too expensive to leave the house with, and I desperately need her help. Nancy,” she called to her maid. “Bring in my gown and give it to Miss Li.”
A maid appeared and laid a gorgeous silk sapphire gown over the couch next to the girl. A basket of threads was brought in by another maid.
“Chen, please tell Miss Li I’ll compensate her well if she can repair my gowns.”
“Mrs. Merriweather,” the butler intoned. “Mr. Brown has arrived for your meeting. I have led him to the rose room.”
“Oh, dear. I forgot the meeting with my solicitor. Chen, would you be so kind as to remain until Miss Li is finished? I do need this gown posthaste. If Anhe needs anything else, please ring the maid and she’ll obtain it for her.” Mrs. Merriweather left the room in a whirl, glancing over her shoulder.
Chen stood and bowed. “There is charity in the fox.”
The old woman tittered, the soul of innocence. “I have no idea what you mean.”
Like a hurricane, Mrs. Merriweather entered the rose room. Elizabeth stood. “Has our plan worked?”
“There is charm about the forbidden that makes it unspeakably desirable. I thought Chen would drop through the floor when I departed, and leaving the two of them alone. Miss Li commenced sewing. I peered through a crack in the door, and the object of Chen’s adoration glanced up and smiled at him. Chen looked like Icarus flying to the sun. Oh, the delicious torment I’m putting the monk through.”
“Tell me more,” Elizabeth begged.
“The man has fallen under a spell of infatuation. His gaze does not leave her, as if she’d dissolve in the mist.”
“Do you think our shy Chen will say anything?”
“I have a very bubbly maid, Nancy, who will take them tea. She has been instructed to force Chen to say something to Miss Li.” Mrs. Merriweather clapped her hands together. “Oh, this shall be a fun afternoon, Elizabeth. To think I’m compelling a celibate monk to reject his vows. I will go straight to hell.”
“Mrs. Merriweather, you are wicked.”
“Delightfully so. I wonder how many gowns I must damage before they tie the knot.”
