“Did you agree?” He cocked one eyebrow, his mouth open in shock. “Whatever has gotten into you of late?”
“I will tonight.” I was pleased that my earlier exercise had flushed my face, or he’d see the blush rushing up my neck. After my conversation with Mrs. Worth and my lustful night with Ash, I decided I needed to get my life on track once more. “My goal was to marry this year, and obviously, that failed to happen. I am thirty, and I want to start a family.” Something I had been deprived of. “Mrs. Engel owns the dressmaker’s shop with her cousin. Thus she understands the demands of running a business.”
“Now you sound like Mrs. Worth.” Ash glanced at the closed door before he returned his regard to me. “I would recommend you courther, however, she claims she’s still in love with her husband and isn’t interested in courting. Which is a shame. She’s a comely woman.”
Understanding dawned, and I clenched my jaw, a rush of anger sparking my temper. “Tell me you didn’t ask to step out with her after I asked you not to.”
An impish grin tilted his mouth. “Fine, I won’t.”
“I hope she wasn’t offended. I need her.” I hadn’t realized how much until she’d organized my office in a week. My other assistants hadn’t accomplished a tenth of what she’d done in the entire month they’d been employed.
“She wasn’t offended.” Ash put his hand to his chest, unabashed by my chastisement. “You infer I am some sort of letch bent on seduction.”
“Youare a letch bend on seduction.” I leaned in and swept my mouth over his smiling one before reluctantly withdrawing. “And I will be your willing victim tonight, with one caveat. You come with me to lunch and meet the dressmakers. I know you are still in love with Suzette, but you can at least pretend interest if for no other reason than I am terrible at social interactions.”
“Are you finally conceding to your greater passions and dropping your ridiculous rules?” He rocked back on his heels, the smile widening as he ignored my request.
Per usual, my heart picked up a tad at how it brightened his handsome countenance. A soft knock sounded at the door, and I could see Mrs. Worth’s outline behind the etched glass. “For now. As you said, both of us are bachelors. However, I will not concede unless you come with me.”
When he still hesitated, I added, “Please.”
“Fine, I will attend with you, but I still think you don’t need to look past that door.” He pointed over his shoulder, indicating the reception area.
Had things been different, I would have asked Mrs. Worth to step out. I liked her wit, and her curvaceous form was pleasing to the eye. Except she worked for me, which wasn’t conducive to courting, and if it didn’t work out, I would be back to where I started.
Chapter Nineteen
The Right Honorable Miss Bernice Natham
“Mrs. Worth, I am attending a luncheon at the Stratham Hotel this afternoon.” Moran strode out of his office, looking sharp in a black suit. He looked extremely fetching with his hair combed back with pomade and a clean shaven jaw. I tried not to notice, but it was hard not to.
In the last few days, he’d been polite but distant. Ash hadn’t visited the office either, which allowed me to work onThe Ghost of Mistletoe Manor. Moran turned his back to retrieve his coat, revealing a few strands of white hair.
“Mr. Moran, you seem to have some sort of hair on the back of your coat.” Perhaps a cat or a dog?
He tried to look over his shoulder, which was a useless endeavor, but I didn’t point out the obvious. His nervousness made me even more curious as to whom he was meeting. It was none of my affair, except I itched to find out.
“Oh, bother. It’s from my cat.” He tugged at his lapel and plucked a few strands off. “I should rethink my suit.”
A cat, of course. I had assumed Moran didn’t have any kind of animal since I had yet to see traces of one. Of course, there was a lot about him that I didn’t know. He’d told me he was a curmudgeon but, thus far, hadn’t exactly lived up to the moniker.
“That won’t be necessary. I will fix it in a trice. I also have a cat.” I pulled the sterling silver lint brush from my bag, a trinket my mother had left me. My father was a cat enthusiast, and I inherited Tabby from him. “He is fond of leaving orange fur everywhere, hence the reason I carry a lint brush.”
“His name is Tabby, correct?” He reached for the proffered brush and began to brush at the wool, missing several spots. “Ash mentioned the incident with the mouse.”
