Glory frowned. “Buteveryonelikes dogs. Except Mama,” she accused darkly.
“I have nothing against dogs in particular, but I don’t like the care and attention that is required by a pet.”Nor the pain of losing one.“I prefer freedom above all things.”
“Spoken like a true bachelor,” Hypatia said with her dry-as-toast wit.
“ButIdon’t mind the work,” Glory argued.
“Your mama does.” He saw no point in honey-coating matters. He’d never understood why some people talked down to children, as if they were stupid, which, he knew, Glory was not. “She has a shop to run, house to keep. Not to mention a little girl to raise. Don’t you think that is enough without adding a pet to the mix?”
The mutiny faded from Glory’s gaze; she looked abashed. As he’d gleaned from their first encounter, while headstrong and perhaps a trifle overindulged, she was clever and responded to reason. At heart, she seemed like a good, loyal child. She’d proven it back on the beach when she’d negotiated a hundred pounds out of him to help her family.
“I don’t need a puppy, Mama,” she said contritely. “May I go ahead and find the cheesemonger?”
“I’ll go with her,” Hypatia said.
Glory darted like a goldfish through the sea of people, her aunt following faithfully in her wake. Rhys continued at a more sedate pace with Maggie, noting her drawn-up shoulders and the tense line of her mouth. Although she was doing her best to hide it, she was distressed…and who could blame her?
He thought of her brother Jeremy’s uncouth treatment of her and regretted not planting a facer on the bastard. Then there was the worm Bancroft poaching her customers. Not to mention the debt that threatened her family’s survival. All of this, and she still walked along, her bonneted head held high, her spine ramrod-straight.
He felt a surge of respect—and an urge he knew better than to give into.
You have no business wanting to protect her,he told himself.You know where that will lead.
He saw his mama, the purple marks glowing on her porcelain skin, her eyes red-rimmed behind her shining black curtain of hair.Go, Rhys, go…
He saw himself kneeling next to Bailey, unable to stop the bleeding or the dog’s pained whimpers.I’m sorry, boy,he’d sobbed.It’s all my fault…
His throat thickened. No, he couldn’t risk getting involved—for Maggie’s sake as well as his own. Everything and everyone he’d gotten close to he had failed to protect. Because of him, they’d paid the ultimate price…and he’d learned the futility of getting too close, of caring too much. With ruthless will, he locked away the anguished memories.
Better to be Ransom the Rake, charming and carefree.
“You didn’t have to come. I’m sure a simple country fair is hardly to your taste.”
Maggie’s low voice drew him back to the present. He realized that she’d glimpsed his expression, his reaction to the past, and misinterpreted the cause.
“There’s no place I’d rather be,” he said smoothly.
He told himself that his attraction to her was acceptable as long as he kept a clear head. As long as expectations were clear and no undue attachments formed. His plan was two-fold: to persuade Maggie to work for him and share his bed again. Given her mistrust of him, the tasks were Herculean. Yet he was determined to succeed.
Her worn black half-boots continued to trudge forward. The slant of her bonnet conveyed that her gaze was on Glory and Hypatia, who were tasting samples at a cheesemonger’s booth up ahead.
“I’m sure you have better things to do,” she said.
“I enjoy Miss Glory’s company.” In truth, he found himself strangely taken with the girl. He liked her pluck and independent spirit. “Her mama’s as well.”
“I neither want nor need your flattery.” Maggie’s pace quickened.
“What about my business, then?” He lengthened his stride to match hers. “As it seems you have lost your last customer, I might be your last hope.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’re no different from Bancroft and all the rest. Ready to pounce and take advantage of a woman when she has no options left.”
Her heated assertion took him aback. Surprised him into taking hold of her elbow to halt her.
She faced him, her shoulders proudly drawn back. Yet beneath the brim of her dark bonnet, her brilliant green eyes were shimmering. She was close to tears, he saw with some shock. To see a strong-willed female like Maggie struggle to keep her composure hit him like a punch to the gut.
“Everything is in shambles, and the last thing I need is trouble from your quarter.” Her voice shook with emotion. “Why won’t you just leave me be?”
It was, undoubtedly, the wise thing to do. But he…couldn’t.
