He laughed. “Good one, George.”
“Stop your crowing, MacOaf, and just drive this thing back to town.”
“Ah, he said knowingly. “To Jim Karat’s house.”
She looked at him and shook her head. She would let him have his fun.
“So what are you going to do? Lie?”
“Probably. I know one thing. I hope there are velvet knee pillows. I think after all this I might have to genuflect.”
He snapped the reins and gave the team their heads. “You? On your knees before a man?” he crowed with cynical laughter. “Now that’s something I’d like to see.”
She slapped her hand on her hat when they hit a rut. “You think that’s funny?”
“The image is enough to keep me awake at night.”
She knew she was a proud woman, but certainly the idea of her begging wasn’t all that funny. She stiffened her spine and chose to ignore him. Every so often she could feel his gaze on her, but she was silent.
She watched him steer the wagon right toward a rock in the road, and when he hit it, she almost flew off the seat. She turned and gave him a frosty glare.
He was wearing that wicked grin.
“You can stop aiming for those ruts and rocks. I’m starting to find you most annoying.”
“Sorry, George. I can’t concentrate. I keep imagining you on your knees in front of me.”
“Imagine all you like, MacOaf.”
He laughed harder.
“I would never beg you for anything.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“No. It’s the truth.”
“You don’t think I could make you beg me for anything?”
“I know you couldn’t.”
“Want to make a wager?”
“You are so arrogant. I ought to do it, just to teach you a lesson. But...” She waved a hand through the air. “I don’t have to make any wagers with you, because after you drop me off at the Cabot house I won’t ever have to see you again.” She threaded her hands together and straightened her spine.
He just kept laughing.
“Oh, be quiet and turn right.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
I come from the city of Boston,
Home of the bean and the cod,
Where the Cabots speak only to Lowells
And the Lowells speak only to God.
