“I apologize for the laugh. But the play of emotions on your face was simply priceless. Never wager at piquet, my dear.”
She dropped her face embarrassed by his easy use of the endearment.
“Is allowing me a single pointthatobjectionable?” he asked.
“How, pray tell, is Mrs. Small going to chase after Fee? She’s 110 if she’s a day.”
“Unfair. She is barely in her fifth decade. She was my nurse, you know. A beloved and indispensable part of the household for years.”
She mimicked his brow lift. “If she wasyournurse, how could she be so young?”
“Youwoundme.”
Shepiffed. “Doubtful.”
“Haven’t I a heart? Here”—he shrugged out of his coat—“you may check for my pulse if you wish.”
Her eyes rounded as he undid his cuff and inched up his sleeve. A man’s hands were so different. His, in particular...
She stared at the bluish veins crisscrossing his outstretched wrist. He had a small scar on his thumb and a lightly raised callous a little lower. A smattering of hair peeked out from his forearm. Although rougher than she would have expected, his hands were strong and clean and well-manicured. She imagined them quite capable of bringing a woman to...
She halted the thought. Her gaze flew to his.
“That won’t be necessary,” she replied primly.
“This isn’t the first time you’ve mocked my age.” He shook down his sleeve and refastened his cuff. “And yet, what are we...” he appraised her, “...five, maybe six years apart?”
“I turned twenty-five last month,” she said.
“Right again,” he grinned. “That makes two points you must concede to me.”
“Ugh.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible!”
“Difficult, certainty. Impossible, no. And you do enjoy the challenge, don’t you?”
She ignored the question, unwilling to concede yet a third point. “Was hiring Mrs. Small really your housekeeper’s idea?”
He nodded. “And I am pained you’re angry.”
“Pained?”
His brows rose innocently. “I hire help, and then you argueagainsta decreased burden.” He shrugged. “I’m at a loss how to respond.”
“You’reat a loss.” She pursed her lips in disbelief. “Youareneverat a loss.”
“Not often,” he agreed. “If you wish, I will ask Mrs. Small to yield to your judgment.”
She stiffened. “I can manage without your interference.”
“Of that, I have no doubt. Nevertheless, I have already promised to be at your service. Have you any other complaint?”
“She’s evicted me from the children’s rooms.”
“Is the chamber Mrs. Whitby prepared not to your liking?” His gaze appeared innocent enough, but something in his eyes raised gooseflesh on her forearms.
“YouknowI can make no complaint on that account.”
“And yet...”
