“What? Oh. Yes.” He released her, and she sank to the stairs, the top half of her body folding over her shoes. Alarm charged through his veins. Had he saved her from a fall only to have her swoon? He crouched by her side, arms at the ready to sweep her up should she need. “Are you certain you are all right, miss?”
“Yes, it’s just ... this...” She yanked off her shoe. “Blasted boot!” Her free hand flew to her mouth as a most becoming shade of dusty rose spread like the dawn on her face.
He laughed—really laughed—which was new. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman made him feel anything other than the urge to run away.
“Please pardon my unconscionable outburst. It’s just that, well”—she waved her shoe in the air—“it appears my heel has decided to completely run off without me.”
“How inconsiderate of the thing.” He retrieved the little fugitive, then returned and held out his hand. “Why don’t you let me see what I can do?”
She offered him the broken shoe. He shook his head. “The other one, if you please.”
Her lips lifted into a most adorable quirk, yet without an objection or even a question, she unlaced the other boot—a completely mismatched one—and gave it to him.
Eyeing the crisp marble edge of the wall just above the handrail, he swung back the shoe, then struck with all his might. Another heel flew high in an arc. He caught the nub before it hit the ground and handed all the broken bits and now-heelless shoe to the woman.
Glowering, she hugged the boot to her chest. “What did you do that for?”
“You had a problem. I solved it. Unless you wanted to hobble around like the hunchback of Notre Dame?”
“Hmph.” She jammed her feet into her shoes. “I’m not quite sure if I ought to thank you or censure you.”
“No need for either.” He grinned. My, but she was spunky. “I am happy I came along when I did, or you may have been more seriously hurt. How about you try those out while I’m still around to be your safety net?”
“Thank you all the same, but I need no such thing.” Rising, she smoothed the creases out of her skirt, totally ignoring him.
And he wasn’t quite sure what to do with that.
“Don’t let me keep you, Mr. Problem Solver. Good day.” Clutching the railing, she mounted the rest of the stairs, leaving behind a smoky-cinnamon scent and a completely foreign emptiness in his chest.
He caught up to her three strides past the landing. “Actually, I am going the same direction.”
“Is that so?” She slanted him a sideways glance, her step not hitching once.
Astounding. Any other woman would have needed smelling salts if he offered to escort her. “You really don’t know who I am, do you?”
“Of course I do.” She shrugged. “You are Mr. Problem Solver.”
What an anomaly. Clearly the woman didn’t read the social columns. Who was this peculiar lady? He matched his pace to hers. “It is rather unusual to find a woman gracing these halls of learning.”
“Well, there you have it.”
“Have what?”
“Iamrather unusual.” Her lips curved into a mischievous grin. “And this is where we part ways. Good day.” Retrieving a key from her pocket, she opened an office door.
Edmund looked from the woman to the nameplate on the wall—then sucked in a breath. Professor Archer Dalton. The very man he was looking for. What were the odds?
He followed her inside to a small room filled with an assortment of empty ink bottles, spent candle nubs, rolls of rags, and broken crocks holding dried snakeskins. And was that a painted elephant tusk hanging by a frayed rope from the ceiling? Stars and thunder. This place was a curiosity shop, as varied and colourful as the woman’s garments. ... Ah, perhaps she was the supplier of the professor’s odd collections.
“Do you work here?” he asked.
“In a sense. Now, if you don’t mind, I am rather busy.” She turned away.
A bold move, one he often employed when hoping to close a deal, but he hadn’t even submitted his proposal yet. He planted his feet. “I should like to hire Professor Dalton to catalogue and price a shipment of Egyptian antiquities soon to arrive at the Price mansion, which is just outside of town. The work wouldrequire a fortnight or so of employment. Possibly more, but it will be very much worth his while.”
She whirled back around. “Am I to understand you are in charge of hiring the professor for Mr. Price?”
“In a sense.” Her pert little nostrils flared at his repetition of her own words, and he stifled a grin.
