“He’s the butler,” Bea informed him. “He was doing his job.”
“From the looks of him, his job is pounding men to a fare-thee-well in the ring.”
“We don’t judge by appearances here,” she said curtly.
“How commendable.”
She studied the stranger through narrowed eyes. He’d schooled his features, his bland expression hiding his reaction as well as any mask. She didn’t know if he recognized her…didn’t know what his motivations were in coming here. Yet all her instincts were telling her that this man, with his too-good looks and smooth-as-cream manners, was as dangerous as any cutthroat.
“State your name and your business, sir.” Her tone made it clear that this was not a request.
For some reason, his lips twitched. Then he swept her an elegant bow.
“Wickham Murray, at your service,” he said.
Oh, dash itall.
“You’re Mr. Murray of the Great London Northern Railway company?” she asked sharply.
He flashed a dazzling white smile. “In the flesh.”
Dear God, she’d seen far,fartoo much of his flesh. Why, oh why, had she ended up sleeping with the blasted enemy?
At the same time, recognizing the folly of what she’d done helped to stem her pain. She didn’t miss the way his gaze flitted to her scar, knew that a man with his beauty must find her imperfection disgusting. Resentment surged that her night of ecstasy—what was supposed to be the memory of a lifetime—was now ruined.
When will you learn? Happiness never lasts. In this instance, not even for a few hours.
Keeping her frustration and anger in check, she said, “You’ve wasted your time coming to Staffordshire, sir. As I wrote you repeatedly, I have no intention of selling my property and nothing you can say or do will change my mind.”
Not even taking me to bed—or upon a desk, rather—and making me come.
Thrice,an irksome voice in her head reminded her. As if she needed reminding.
She folded her arms over her bosom and gave Murray a get-thee-gone look.
“As I wroteyourepeatedly, Miss Brown, my job is changing minds.” Before she could reply to that arrogant statement, he turned to Fancy and smiled. “Beg pardon for my rudeness, miss. I don’t believe we’ve been introduced?”
Fancy blinked, looking confused. She was no doubt torn between what she knew about Murray and what now faced her: a swoon-worthy Adonis who was returning her outburst with uncommon courtesy. As the daughter of a travelling tinker, Fancy wasn’t used to being treated with respect. Yet Murray addressed her the same way he might a duchess in a drawing room.
“I’m Fancy Sheridan,” she said uncertainly. “Miss Beatrice’s friend.”
“How fortunate Miss Brown is to have such a devoted companion.” Murray bowed to Fancy, whose cheeks turned rosy. “Or, I should say,twoloyal companions.”
He crouched and crooked his fingers at Zeus. With a stab of annoyance, Bea watched as her dog trotted over. After sniffing Murray’s hand, the brindle bull terrier licked it.
Murray gave Zeus a few pats before rising.
“I do apologize for dropping in, Miss Brown,” he said. “Trust me, I was as startled as you were by the precipitousness of my arrival.”
Good-natured humorlit his eyes, which irritated Bea further. Rare was the man who was confident enough to laugh at himself; her papa, brother, even Croydon, had never mastered the art of not taking oneself too seriously.
That Murray looked the way he didandpossessed a charming personality was simply unfair.
“As long as your departure is equally precipitous, I’ll have no complaints,” Bea snapped.
Oh, perfect. Juxtaposed against his charm, she came off like an ill-tempered fishwife.
He seemed unperturbed. “May I ask a more convenient time to return?”
