Perhaps because ye are?
He scoffed at the ridiculous thought. A lovesick suitor? Preposterous.
It wasn’t until he heard the door creak open at his back that Kenneth realized he’d been pacing back and forth on the small step. He whirled about to see a sliver of an older woman’s round face.
“Are you a salesman?” she asked through the crack in the door.
Momentarily flustered, Kenneth shook his head. “What? Nay.”
“Are you from the taxman? Or the church?”
He pressed his satchel against his side and tried a charming smile. “Neither of those, my good lady.”
“Ahhh.” She nodded knowingly as she opened the door a bit wider, revealing a rounded body to match her rounded face, and an old-fashioned mop cap. “A lovesick suitor then, is it?”
His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to deny it, but no sound emerged.
She nodded knowingly, then stuck up a finger at him. “I should warn you. The older one, Maggie, she’s already married, so you missed your chance with her. And the younger one is too immature for you.” She glared protectively. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re interested in a sixteen-year-old gel, sir, that’s disgusting.”
Feeling completely off-balance, Kenneth shook his head again in a bit of a daze. “I...uh…” Gathering himself, he straightened and nodded respectfully. “I’m here to call on Miss Barbara Fokette. Last time I was here, Baron Fokette let me in. And you are his…sister?”
The servant—because ofcourseshe wasn’t the baron’s sister, but Kenneth wouldn’t be in the running for London’s Best Rake if he didn’t know how to charm older women—suddenly beamed and threw the door open wide.
“His sister? Bless me, sir, no—but if you’re here for our Barbie, then come on in! She’s having tea in the drawing room.”
With a charismatic grin, he swept his hat from his head and made an elaborate bow which had her giggling before he handed it over. “Not her library, then?”
“Oh, you do know my Barbie? I helped raise all the gels, you know,” the woman—housekeeper? Nurse?—tittered. “I’ve been waiting for a gentleman to come along who could recognize her as the treasure she is. This way, sir, the drawing room is here.” She burst through the door with a grand gesture. “Barbie! A handsomegentlemanis here to see you!”
Kenneth stepped into the room behind her in time to see Barbara look up, startled, from where she’d been listening to her younger sister read aloud from—was that Erasmus Darwin?
Barbara’s expression lit with a smile as though she were genuinely delighted to see him, and Kenneth’s heart began to beat double time. He slipped around the servant and as Barbara put her teacup down and made to stand, he held out his hand.
“Nay, dinnae get up, lass. I’ll join ye, if ye dinnae mind?”
“That would be wonderful.” Barbara shifted her attention to the older woman. “Missus Whinge, would you mind asking Cook to send up more cakes?”
“Cook? Ask?” the housekeeper sniffed. “You meanme, Barbie?”
As he settled beside her on the chaise, Barbara’s smile froze. “Yes, Missus Whinge. I was trying to pretend the household had a full contingent of servants, rather than allowing our guest to believe our parents make us change our own sheets and dress our own hair.”
From her seat across the tea service, young Annabelle sniffed into her book. “I burned myself twice yesterday trying to perfect ringlets, and you know I need dexterity for propagation. We would have more money for servants if you and Papa weren’t so focused on antiquities.”
Barbara’s smile had turned distinctly icy. “We would have more money for servants if Papa had not built you and Mother that fancy greenhouse out back, and filled it with all those exotic plants—or if Albert did not have that stuffed bear.”
“Plenty of children have toys made from?—”
“It is an actualbear, Bella. From the Americas. Stuffed and mounted and more terrifying than any child needs in his nursery.”
Her younger sister stuck out her tongue.
By this time the servant had bustled off, and Barbara seemed to deflate with a sigh as she turned to Kenneth. “Annabelle and I complain, but we really are quite content. I hope you will not think less of us for having to do our own chores.”
Unable to help himself, he reached for her hand, his grin never wavering. “Nay—on the contrary, I think ye even more magnificent.”
A blush began to climb her throat and he found himself unable to look away, remembering how that skin had tasted last night. Like honey and heat and?—
From across the way, Annabelle loudly cleared her throat as she lifted the book in front of her face. “If you are going to woo each other, do so more quietly, please. I am young and impressionable.”
