“And what are your thoughts on the story?” he asked while doing his best to hide the amusement he found with Miss Russell’s discomfiture.
She cleared her throat. “It’s wonderfully entertaining.”
“I particularly like the part where the earl is chasing the villain across the rooftops. The ensuing struggle when he catches him and they nearly fall to their deaths is thrilling.”
Her face lit up. “I think so too.” The shy smile teasing her lips was so enchanting he was almost tempted to reach up and trace his finger across the dimple it formed at the edge of her mouth. “It might not be very realistic but one of my favorite scenes is where the earl is fighting off ten men in an alley.”
“Ye’re right. They should have been able to overpower him by sheer number, but I do agree that it was exciting to read.”
“Do you…” She bit her lip, seemed to hesitate briefly, before she finally asked, “Do you think the story could have done with less romance?”
“Maybe, but I certainly didnae mind it. In fact, including some romance should make the book appeal to both sexes. As I dare say we’ve just established.”
She gave a thoughtful nod. “It’s my reason for liking the story. Not the romance, I mean, but the balance between the romance and the rest of it. I find it appealing.”
A comfortable moment of silence followed without either one of them saying a word. They just sat side by side on the bench, enjoying the sunshine, the soft twitter of birds, and the beauty the garden offered. Blayne inhaled deeply. He could remain here all day if he didn’t have other tasks to attend to. It would be a pleasure for him to enjoy the peaceful retreat while letting himself relax in Miss Russell’s company.
He’d already stayed much longer than he’d intended. It was time for him to take his leave. “If ye dinnae require me for the rest of the day, I’d like to get back to The Black Swan. When I left, I meant to return within the hour so I didnae give my colleagues instructions on how to deal with the ale delivery we’re expecting.”
“Of course.” Miss Russell stood and shook out her skirts. “Make the necessary arrangements today so you can be free tomorrow. There’s an errand I have to run in the East End, so I’d like to have your escort.”
“What time do ye want me to call on ye?” Blayne asked as soon as he’d risen.
“We’ll meet at the corner of Oxford Street and Tottenham Court Road since your coming here will only result in unnecessary questions.” When he remained silent she added, “My parents have busy schedules. The only reason they were here this morning was for the sake of meeting you. Otherwise, they’re both out of the house by nine, but there are the servants to consider. I wouldn’t trust any of them besides Daisy not to inform my parents that I’ve gone out with you for the day.”
“Duly noted.”
“There’s something else. My father may have given you the impression that I’m not good for the ten pounds I’ve offered to pay every week for your service. If this concerns you, I am willing to provide you with an advance.”
“That willnae be necessary. Ye’ve given yer word, and that’s good enough for me. Besides, ye seem like the practical sort so it wouldnae surprise me to learn ye’ve been setting aside some pin money for when ye need it.” He offered his arm and she took it, instilling in him a deep sense of satisfaction. She knew he was dangerous and yet, she seemed to trust him completely. It was only fair of him to return the favor.
Water streaked down the window, smudging the view of the street. Comfortably dry inside the carriage she’d hired, Charlotte waited patiently for Mr. MacNeil’s arrival. Daisy sat beside her, tapping her foot in time to the rapid beat of the rain.
“He’s going to be late,” the maid said. She’d been checking her pocket watch every minute since their arrival. “Honestly, miss, I think we ought to leave.”
“He’ll come,” Charlotte assured her with every bit of confidence she felt. “Mr. MacNeil is a man of his word.”
At the very least he’d been clear about wanting to thwart her parents. She also sensed he needed the money, though for what exactly she’d no idea.
Perhaps she’d ask.
As a woman who valued her privacy, it wasn’t her nature to pry into other people’s affairs. But if doing so would result in another interesting conversation with a man who intrigued her more and more with each word he spoke, it might be worth defying her own principles for the time it would take to pose the question.
“I think you should find someone else,” Daisy said. “Your parents would have a fit if they learned you were seein’ him again today. They clearly don’t approve.”
“Which is why they’ll never find out,” Charlotte told her sternly. “Just as they’ll never know I’m not really attending book clubs or poetry discussions.”
“Of course, miss. I didn’t mean to imply I’d betray you. I’d never do that. It’s just Mr. MacNeil isn’t really the sort of man a woman like you should be seen with.”
“He’s not a bad sort, Daisy. In fact I’m inclined to think higher of him than I would most upper class gentlemen.”
Daisy gasped. “How can you say that when you know he’s connected to Carlton Guthrie?”
“An association he himself confessed to,” Charlotte snapped. Honestly, she was starting to lose her patience. “As far as people go, Mr. MacNeil is proving himself to be more forthright than anyone else I’ve known.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that—”
The carriage door was thrust open, allowing a damp wind to sweep inside the cabin. Mr. MacNeil climbed inside and pulled the door shut before claiming the opposite bench. Water soaked his hair, the droplets dripping over his forehead and shoulders. A puddle formed around his booted feet. “A pity ye didnae pick yesterday for yer outing, Miss Russell. Today’s a wee bit soggy.” He wiped his palms on his brown breeches. “Shall we be off then?”
