Although glancing sideways, she noticed Charlotte had blushed at their sister’s comment. Perhaps shewasinterested in one of the lords.
Before she could pry further, Beatrice felt a tap upon her shoulder. Spinning around, there at last was Greer Carson.
Chapter Twenty
“Good evening.” GreerCarson bowed. “I’m glad I caught up with you, china doll, clearly the best-dressed shepherdess who ever attempted to herd sheep.”
Beatrice took in the welcome sight of him, with her heart immediately beating faster and her happiness level spiking.
“A savage!” she exclaimed.
“A native of my country,” he confirmed.
“Well done!” She’d never seen anything quite like it except in a book. He wore a headdress that was as tall as Amity’s wig but made of feathers, and a leather vest over —an entirely bare chest! —and soft leather pants. Even his feet were clad in strange shoes with beaded tassels, more like women’s dancing slippers than anything she’d ever seen on a man.
“Moccasins,” he said, lifting a foot. “Very comfortable.”
They smiled at each other, but she couldn’t help her glance returning to his chest. From what she could see, it was a nice one, not that she was any judge. She wanted to reach out and brush the sprinkling of hair visible where his buckskin vest didn’t close, and she clenched her hands at her sides.Imagine the scandal if she gave in to her impulse!
Dragging her gaze back to his, Beatrice recalled their discussion of costumes weeks earlier. “I thought you didn’t want to bring too much attention to yourself not being from here,” she challenged.
“I changed my mind,” he said. “My accent gives me away anyway, and most people have been welcoming.”
Beatrice thought of Lord Melton, who’d said something slightly disparaging on more than one occasion regarding the habits of Americans. However, as long as Lady Emily didn’t mind Greer’s foreignness, she supposed that was all he cared about.
Looking her up and down with a glimmer in his eye, he asked, “So no crook or lamb? What a disappointment.”
She shrugged. “And you don’t have a buffalo. Another disappointment.”
“I suppose I could have put a costume on Miss Sylvia and brought her as my companion.”
They grinned at each other at the notion.
As usual, he then asked about her hand, which had healed nicely due to his ministrations — followed by Delia soaking Beatrice’s hand in milk before gently cleaning off the butter and honey, and then applying a poultice of tea leaves held in place with a clean linen bandage, which she’d kept on overnight.
“Perfectly fine, thanks to you,” Beatrice responded as she did whenever he asked.
