She set about making breakfast with a practiced efficiency, lighting the fire and setting the kettle to boil. Without a word, she cut a few slices of bread and set them over a hot stone to toast.
It wasn’t until, at last, she settled before me with a singular plate and a singular cup of tea, that I realized the purpose of the entire performance. Her eyes met mine overtop her teacup as she sipped, slurping pointedly, before setting it back on the saucer with a smirk.
The subsequent display involving the toast, butter, and jam, was equally involved and I had little doubt that she was imagining my head when she chomped into it.
“Charming.”
“Were ye hungry, Yer Grace?”
“Not at all,” I tossed back, ignoring the gnawing sensation in my stomach. I hadn’t eaten supper yesterday either. But too many years with Dav had taught me better than to rise to thebait. Miss McAllen may be skilled at needling, but there wasn’t a soul on this earth more capable of driving one to madness than Davina Hasket. My patience was forged in fire and blood, its strength tested hourly for nearly two decades.
Miss McAllen ate purposefully, taking small, almost sarcastic bites of the perfectly browned bread. Each sip of tea was accompanied by a dramatic slurp, and her gaze almost never left mine. It was a challenge, a gauntlet.
It seemed she had formed a plan in the night, and that plan was to make me wish I’d never been born. I had to respect it, to be perfectly honest. Most men, men who hadn’t been raised by a hateful father and a self-indulgent mother, who weren’t preceded by a gambling, lecherous brother and followed by the most troublesome sister in existence, would be brought to their knees by her—I had no doubt of it. But Miss McAllen hadn’t the slightest idea who she was dealing with. And it would be her downfall.
It took her nearly half an hour to finish two slices of toast, and I was certain her tea was long cold before she finally emptied the cup with a final, overloud gulp, topped with a dramaticAhhh.
“As soon as Godfrey returns, we’ll be heading for Kilmarnock. I suggest you pack a bag, you’ll be away for awhile.”
“I willnae!”
“I suppose you needn’t pack a bag if you do not wish to. But I rather think you’ll regret it. Godfrey and I do not possess a single frock between us.”
“I’ll nae go with ye. It wouldnae be proper.”
“You’re already with child and without a husband. I rather think propriety is the least of your concerns.”
Her glare was sharp, her overgrown brow furrowing above dark eyes. “How do ye know I’m without a husband?”
“You said as much yesterday.”
“I lied yesterday.”
“Yes, about a great many things. That wasn’t one of them.”
“How do ye ken that?” she asked.
“Ah, I think it best I kept that intelligence secret a little longer.” In truth, I wasn’t certain. There was justsomethingin her countenance that reminded me of Gabe when he was pulling the wool over someone’s eyes. And the tell hadn’t been there in that moment. “Best see to packing if you don’t wish to wear that dress for the foreseeable future,” I added.
She huffed as expected, crossing her arms before stomping off toward the room she’d tried to climb from the night before.
“You’ll need a different route if you hope to escape,” I called after her.
Godfrey returned shortly after her departure with pastries. They had nothing on Hudson’s, but they were tolerable. The buttery pastry sparked a memory—Tom Grayson at my side in the bakery, a tart crumb caught on his lower lip in a way that left me desperate to lick it— This wasn’t the time for such thoughts.
By the time Miss McAllen finished her purposeful dawdling, it was nearly midafternoon.
Godfrey loaded her trunk while I shooed her toward the carriage.
“Lock—meet Miss McAllen. Miss McAllen—Lock. Not to be confused with Loch.”
“Quite right, Yer Grace. Pleased to meet ye,” the man agreed with a jovial grin.
She raised a dark brow before turning to enter.
“Not so fast. Lock, you should know that Miss McAllen is a dangerous thief. As such, she is not to be allowed near horses, sheep, goats, donkeys, medium-sized dogs or large numbers of small dogs, any livestock large enough to ride or pull a cart, nor any conveyance, whether it be two- or four- wheeled or not wheeled at all. Nor is she to be allowed on walks, jaunts,strolls, parades, stretches, hikes, or turns about any place. She is allowed to assist in the repairs to Kilmarnock and nothing else. Agreed?”
“Seems a bit harsh, Yer Grace.”
