“Looking for something?” he asked.
She cleared her throat. “I came ta get some thread fer milady’s gown. Mrs. Cotswold told me there be thread in here.”
Mr. Baxter lifted his head again and glanced around. “I’m happy to help you look for it.”
“That won’t be necessary.” She gave him a tight smile. She didn’t need Nicholas Baxter doing her a favor. He seemed like the kind of man who would expect one in return.
Nonetheless, he set down his letter, jumped from the keg, and began opening cupboard drawers and doors. So did Marianne. As they continued to search in silence, she could feel the unspoken competition between them. He went faster and faster and so did she. She’d rather be struck with the plague than allow him to find the thread first.
As she worked, she made her way around to the far side of the room where his letter sat atop the keg. As she opened a nearby drawer to look for the thread, she couldn’t help but glance at the letter. Confound it. The man had laid it down face first. Would it be far too obvious if she flipped it over?
“Found it!” he called out, startling her from her thoughts.
She whirled around. “Where?” Her voice was much harsher and more accusatory than she’d meant it to be. She closed the drawer she’d been looking in and glanced back to see him pointing to a cupboard door that was quite a bit higher than she could have reached.
“Up here,” he replied, a smug smile on his face.
She waited a few moments for him to hand it to her, and when he didn’t seem inclined to do any such thing, she finally extended her hand and said, “Well?” while tapping her foot on the ground.
“Well, what?” His smile was downright merry.
“Well, aren’t ye goin’ ta hand it ta me?”
“Oh, would you like me to, Miss Notley?” His smile went tight.
She could feel the glower on her face. “Yes, Mr. Baxter, I would.”
“There is a word, Miss Notley, that people often use in such situations, a word that is said to have great power.”
She narrowed her eyes on him. She wanted to slap his ridiculously handsome face. “And that word is?”
“Please, Miss Notley. The word isplease.”
The man enjoyed torturing her. She could see it in his ice-blue eyes. She refused to make it any more enjoyable for him. She needed to get this over with and be on her way. Him staring at her that way unnerved her. She refused to look at him. Instead, she picked a point on the wall beside his head to focus her gaze. “Will youpleasehand me the thread, Mr. Baxter?” she asked in her most sickeningly sweet voice, while batting her eyelashes in a ridiculous fashion.
He scooped the thread from the shelf and handed it to her gently.
“Thank ye,” she replied, performing an exaggerated curtsy.
“My pleasure.” His smile was beatific now.
“I doubt it.” She swiveled toward the door, intent upon leaving immediately.
“May I ask you something, Miss Notley?”
He was still enjoying himself. Trying to rattle her more. She stopped and sighed. “I suppose so, Mr. Baxter.”
“What sort of a child were you?”
Marianne couldn’t help the strange sound that flew from her throat. It was a mixture of a laugh, a snort, and some sort of an exclamation. The man had surprised her. He might have asked her a score of things, but she never would have guessed he’d askthat. She turned to face him once again.
“You know, your laugh is beautiful,” he replied quietly. “But I’m curious, what was funny about my question?”
She immediately squelched her smile. Her laugh was beautiful? That noise she’d emitted? Hardly. And he’d said it just like a charmer. A man who used women and tossed them aside like so many used handkerchiefs. His words might fool some of the young maids, but he wasn’t about to fool her. “Why in heaven’s name would ye want ta know about me childhood?”
“I’m not asking you to recount the entire thing,” he replied with a grin. “I was merely wondering if you were the type of child who told on others when they broke the rules.”
“Ah, is that wot ye think o’ me?” She turned the small spool of thread over and over in her hands. This conversation was making her nervous. She needed to get back upstairs and mend Wilhelmina’s gown.
