Mature was a thing she could be.
Of all things she was, it was mature.
So why was she still standing there, knuckles about to rap smartly on his chin, her gaze glued to his—um—towelregion?
“Rose?” According to his tone, Bull had gotten over his surprise quickly, and had moved on to the irritation stage of Unexpected Visitors. “What are ye doing here?”
“I am sorry,” she squeaked. “I-I did not expect to interrupt your bath.”
“Bath? There’s nae bath,” Bull grumbled, turning away from the door and scrubbing his hand down his face. “I dinnae warrant a room with a tub.”
He hadn’t exactly invited her in, but Rosie took a tentative step forward, and could see the bowl of water, the soap, and the splashed water on the table.
“Ididwonder why you had been placed up here,” she murmured, glancing around the small room, which had clearly been intended for staff. “I suppose Da got his way after all.”
“Nay.” He’d scooped up a pair of trousers and was now wriggling into them. “Hewanted me in the stables. Or the next town. I expect yer mother intervened.”
Rosieprobablymade a noise of agreement. She intended to, at least. The thought occurred to her. But she couldn’t be certain, because all her other thoughts were captured by the sight of Bull’s arse disappearing beneath that dark wool as he yanked his towel up and threw it around his neck.
Only then did he turn back to her.
One auburn brow rose expectantly, and she knew sheshouldblush at being caught staring at his arse…but instead, her lips curled.
“If ye didnae ken I’d be half-naked, Rose, why are ye here?”
“If I had known youwouldbe half-naked, I might have sold tickets.”
His snort of laughter was comforting. So was the way he crossed the room to kick the door shut. “Yer father’s made it clear we’re no’ to be alone together. We spent all that time in the library with Bruno, a man I’m still not allowed to ask about.”
Somehow, the closing of that door—with both of them safe onthisside—made her feel more relaxed. So much so that his words didn’t even bother her.
Rosie shrugged, her hands falling to her belt once more, and did her best to pretend nonchalance. “We havenotbeen alone today. Which means we have not had a chance to really discuss the investigation and what we learned today.”
Bull crossed his arms over his bare chest, leaned against the door, and eyed her. “Ye mean about yer relatives? There werenae any ruby necklaces in the portrait gallery.”
They’d spent the day pouring over old books and family histories with Mother in the library—one of their mutual Happy Places—and taking long lists of notes. “My grandmother Amelia did indeed have a mole, so the portrait could not be of her.”
There was a portrait in the gallery of a very young Georgia with her mother and new baby sister, Danielle. It had always been one of Rosie’s favorites; she liked to try and imagine what her mother had been like as a girl.
Bull was nodding. “The gown she’s wearing in the painting is clearly too auld of a style to be Amelia. Her mother Rosemary orhersister Elizabeth, or a cousin are better options. We need to learn more about the two of them.”
Rosie had been fiddling with her belt as she paced—six strides to the bed, six strides back to the window—and considered the conundrum. “Mother was not lying when she spoke of her father’s pride. The Earl was…”
“Aye,” Bull agreed grimly. “I remember him.”
Oh. Of course he would. As a young man, almost boy, he’d been involved in the adventure which had brought down Rosie’s grandfather. In fact, Bull himself had killed the man’s brother, Aunt Kit’s father.
“Right. So we have gads of books abouthisfamily history. Amelia’s family history is more difficult to guess. Her last name was Smith before her marriage, which is supremely unhelpful.”
“Aye,” Bull drawled. “Had she been a Chafin or a Uheifer or a Bendover, we would have an easier time of it.”
She was too disheartened to laugh.
On the next lap past his place by the door, Bull reached out and grabbed her hand. Unfortunately—or perhaps fortunately—since she was holding onto her belt, the thing came untied as he tugged her toward him. Thankfully she was too completely distracted by the soft smile on his lips to worry about such a minor thing as the possibility of her clothing falling off.
Bull pulled her against him and cupped her cheek and jaw with his free hand. “We’ll learn the truth, love, I ken it,” he murmured. His thumb caressed her skin. “I swear it.Tomorrow I’ll track down the history of Rosemary and her sister Elizabeth…assuming yer father allows me to stay.”
Her smile was a little lopsided as she swayed toward him, not fighting the impulse to lean. “He is really a big softy at heart.”
