***
That afternoon, Fallon decided that, even though she couldn’t tell Eliza about herlate-night intentions,shecouldn’tleavewithout spending some time with her.Even if she wasn’t her cousin in truth,during Fallon’s time at Shawsea Hall, she had certainly become a good friend.
After extendingan invitation to ride into the villageunder the pretense of looking for some replacement ribbon for her bonnet, Eliza was more than happy to comply.Once their mounts were saddled, they headed for the local milliner, but on the way, Eliza’s attention was diverted by another shop. “Ooh! I’ve been having the most terrible craving for a cinnamon scone! Say we can stop and treat ourselves, Fallon!”
There was no way that Fallon could refuse her when those blond curls were dancing about her face and her blue eyes were so wide and pleading. With a laugh, Fallon said, “I admit that does sound rather tempting.”
“Huzzah!” With a shout of victory, Eliza dismounted.
Fallonslid from her horse’s back.
Once they had secured their mounts, they walked insideand immediately the scents of freshly baked bread,along withhoney and cinnamon assaulted their senses. The aroma filled the room to such a remarkable degree that Fallon imagined she could see the steam rising from the items on display in the glass case.
“Good day, Miss Shaw.” The woman behind the counter greeted them. She was a buxom woman wearing a gray dress with anapron that was sprinkled with flour and various spices. There was even a small smudgeof whitenear her cheek.“You haven’t been in to visit me in a while.”
“I do apologize for that, Mrs. Weaver.” Eliza blushed slightly. “I fear I’ve been preoccupied of late.”
“Yes.”The bakernodded knowingly. “I heard about your recent betrothal.Allow me tooffer my heartfelt congratulations.”
“Thank you.” With a broad smile, Eliza turned to Fallon. “This is my cousin from Ireland, Miss Fallon O’Malley. I told her you have the best scones in England.” Eliza offered Fallon a wink while Mrs. Weaver laughed.
“I’m not sure about that,” the baker returned. “But I have heard that my hot cross buns are quite delicious.”
“Then we shall just have to have both!” Eliza said. After she paid Mrs. Weaver, she led Fallon over to a small seating area.
They chatted for a time and then the door opened to admit another customer. Fallon nearly choked when she spied Atticus Clare with his familiar queue. Attired in a dark blue suit, he looked entirely tooattractive for her peace of mind.
Butwhen he swung around andthose dark eyes connected with hers,she quickly glanced away as if she hadn’t noticed him. Of course, it was too late, for he strode over to their table with an easy stride—and a rather dark look that didn’t bode particularly well. “Good day, ladies,” he said in that smooth baritone.
Shivers danced across her arms and spine, but other than a polite smile, Fallon said nothing in return. Eliza, on the other hand, had no such hesitation. “Mr. Clare. What a surprise! Were you feeling the need for something special today as well?”
“Indeed. And it didn’t take me long to find it.” Fallon didn’t look up, keeping her attention fixated on her half-eaten roll, but something told her he wasn’treferring toanything pertaining to baked goods.“I hopeyoudon’tmind if Iembark on your afternoon for a moment.I’d like to have a word in privatewith Miss O’Malley.”
Fallon’s gaze shot upward. “I—”
“Of course.”Eliza spoke at the same time.With a parting wink, she immediately excused herself and left Fallon at the mercy of Mr. Clare, who slid into the seat Eliza had just vacated.
She glared at him. “That was rude.”
He lifted a brow. “How so?”
“I—” She considered his request when he’d approached their table and decided that he hadn’t ordered Eliza away, but rather her cousin had taken it upon herself to be dismissed. Without a convincing argument, she clasped her hands together and asked, “What do you want?”
He didn’t miss a beat. “Do you care to explain why you’re marrying Locklyn Durmor?”
Chapter Thirteen
AtticussawFallon shift inher seat. It was obvious his direct query had made her uncomfortable.Good.When he’d gone by to see Brendan Hayes earlier that morning, gaining somelast-minuteinformation before the Raven had left for another escapade,he’d been told the news of the impending betrothal. It had come as quite a shock, considering the last time they had spoken, she acted as though she detested the man. Thus, all the doubts and hesitation he’d had about her true intentions for wanting to return to Ireland had come rushing back. Each day grew more perilous for the Raven and his crew, and instead oftrying tocommandeer a ship that was carrying supplies to the Royal Irish Constabulary, he was here trying to find out exactly what sort of game she was playing.
However, instead of appearing contrite, she got to her feet. “I don’t have to sit here and be interrogated, and especially not byyou.”
She was halfway out the door before he realized that he’d just been left sitting alone at the table. Even Eliza’s stunned expression as she spoke to the baker seemed to convey that Fallon’s behavior was unexpected.
Atticus caught up to Fallon before she had reached her mount. He grabbed hold of her arm and began to haul her toward the alleyway next to the bakery. “What do you think you’re doing?” she snapped hotly. “Let me go!”
He did, but after he trapped her between his bodywithan arm on other side of her head. Pinning her with his stare, he watched as she raised her chin a mutinous inch. “Stubborn, Irish wench,” he mumbled.
“Pardon me?”
