“I do apologize, Mr. MacKintosh. I’ve been more than a little temperamental of late given the discord in my family. Though, in all honesty, I’ve never been much of a conversationalist even in the best of times.”
“On the contrary, the few short words you’ve uttered to me throughout the course of our acquaintance have been absolutely charming.”
Amusement suffused her.
“I’ve been told I’m too opinionated in my conversation.”
“So you’ve opted out of it entirely?”
A smile teased at her lips. She hadn’t imagined he would be witty. “I save it for my reform work.”
“Now, there I believe your vocabulary can be quite colorful. And opinionated.”
A rare chuckle escaped her. “I would think a lord such as yourself would be especially intolerant of a woman with an opinion…or of any thought beyond which gown to wear to dinner.”
“Do you know many lords?” he asked, smiling down at her. His grin warm with amusement and more attractive than she’d imagined a simple smile being. It faded at length and when he again spoke, he still had nothing to say about what he’d seen.
“Who is he?”
Since it was not at all what she was expecting, she could do nothing more than gape at him a moment before she blinked.
“Who? Oh, that’s Mr. Mossman Leachman. Have you not met him before?”
“No. Mossman Leachman?” He wrinkled his nose with repugnance, though it didn’t make him any less attractive. “Such a villainous name. Some sort of mad scientist, perhaps? No, with a name like Mossman, he must be an evil botanist.”
Her surprised chuckle sounded rusty even to her own ears. “No, I don’t believe so.”
“An evil botanist then, set to destroy you with poisonous strawberries?”
Her hand tightened around his arm as she laughed again. He remembered her allergy? But the delight slid away and she shot a quick look over her shoulder. Yes, they were all still watching her.
“He’s my father-in-law’s business partner.”
“And…?”
Clearly, he was astute enough to know there was something more.
“He’s my…I would say my suitor, but that makes it sound as if I am encouraging his suit.” She frowned, seeing the gesture mirrored in the downturn of his lips. “I do not.”
“Then why is he courting you at all?”
“The truth is, I’ve been widowed over a year now, and my father-in-law and brothers are pressuring me quite heavily to remarry.”
Good Lord, she couldn’t believe she was being so familiar with a man she hardly knew. But for some reason, Prim trusted him, if only because he hadn’t related the details of her escort from the suffrage march on the capitol to anyone…yet, at least.
She hurried on, “There are few candidates for the position. The greatest and most persistent of them is that gentlemen.”
“Gads, he looks old enough to be your father, or grandfather even.”
“I agree.”
* * *
Though an introduction was the only personal experience he’d had with the man, James knew Declan Eames by reputation. A giant in the banking world, Eames was known as an overbearing blowhard in business, even more so than Morgan. From the way he glowered at his daughter-in-law, he wasn’t much different in his private life.
Aye, he could see a man like Eames forcing a female relative into a courtship she might not support. But the wife of his only son? That seemed unusual. The curiosity that was Prim Eames continued to grow.
“Why the pressure for you to wed? You’ve not been a widow long.”
