How she’d said that in such a clear, calm tone, Rupert would never know.
“You may tell your nephew, however, that he is always welcome at the Diamond, and should he bring others with him, they are similarly welcome,” she continued. “You may also tell him if he makes himself known to the ticket master at the beginning of the Spectacular, we will make certain he receives extra privileges.”
Rupert fought against showing his astoundment. She offered such after the man had been condescending and—let’s face it—rude. However, Rupert knew as well as anyone you caught more flies with honey than with vinegar and, it seemed, Mrs Reynolds knew this too.
That red-haired lass would have to set aside an hour or two for Mrs Reynolds, that was also certain.
Devlin scratched his head. “He’ll be disappointed, make no mistake, but it won’t stop him from attendin’. Especially as he’ll be getting those extra privileges.”
“I’m delighted to hear that. Good morning, Mr Devlin.” Picking up her purse, she turned to leave and, in doing so, spied Rupert. Her shoulders drooped slightly before she squared them, lifting her chin.
Pushing himself from the wall, he fixed a delighted grin upon his face. “Mrs Reynolds! I am so pleased to see you again so soon.”
As regally as a queen, she nodded her greeting. “Mr Llewellyn,” she said, and then she swept past him and out the door.
He watched her go, admiring the way she took up space, her stride, and a rogue black curl that flirted with the nape of her neck.
“Can I help you, Mr Llewellyn?”
He blinked. Devlin regarded him, a too-eager smile on his face.
“No, no, kind sir, I—” Bloody hell, he didn’t care about exchanging pleasantries with Devlin. With an apologetic smile, he followed her out the door.
She was several feet ahead of him, and moving swiftly. He lengthened his stride, catching up to her. “My dear Mrs Reynolds! How are you this day? You are looking mighty fine, if I do say so myself.” He allowed a frown to destroy his grin. “That is the vernacular, is it not? Mighty fine? I do try to utilise these wonderfully quaint Westernisms when possible.”
With a sigh, she stopped and offered him a tight smile. “Mr Llewellyn. How lovely to see you again.”
Her tone implied the exact opposite. He struggled to contain his grin. “Thank you, dear lady, as it is a delight to see you once more. Tell me, might we take a turn around this splendid town of yours?
Her eyes flickered. “I have much to do today, Mr Llewellyn.”
“Come, it won’t take long, and we can all use a bit of diversion in our day. Shall we perambulate along Main Street?”
“If you think your reputation could survive such an event.”
Widening his eyes just enough to suggest innocence, he blinked. “My reputation?”
“I am a woman saloon owner, the purveyor of alcohol and wickedness. Being seen on the street in my company would rend the delicate gossamer of a decent man’s reputation in two.”
“Perhaps it might. I, however, enjoy living on the edge of danger. Come, let us tempt fate by walking in broad daylight on a public thoroughfare.”
Her dark brows drew. They were bold, her brows, thick and well-shaped, framing her amber-brown eyes with an assist from long, dark lashes. Soulful eyes, his mam would have called them and, truth be told, he would call them the same.
Belatedly, he realised she still regarded him with a curious expression, as ifhehad said something curious. Quickly, he arranged his most empty-headed grin and held out his hand. “Shall we?”
Regarding him another moment, she shook her head and took his hand. Tucking it into the crook of his elbow, he felt a ridiculous pleasure when she allowed it to remain there. Tucking his cane under his other arm, he covered her hand with his own as they meandered down the street.
She remained silent as they walked a ways. “Though I’m glad of your company, I have to ask why it is we’re walking together,” she finally said. “I can only imagine you were in the telegraph office to employ it for the purpose?”
“Hmm?” Even through his glove and hers, he was oddly aware of her hand, warm and light against his forearm. She wore no gloves, and he could see the rough marks of a life filled with labour. Clearing his throat he shook himself. He had no time for fancies when there was his own work to be done. “Oh no, that can wait. I would rather walk with you, dear lady.”
Her lips twisted. “Of course. So, we’ll talk of pleasant things, and I’ll ask how you find this day?”
Ah, that sharp, ironical tone. How delightful that he were now the recipient of it. Again, he concealed his amusement. “Well, the day has just begun, and I find myself in your delightful company. I cannot imagine my day becoming brighter, though I do declare, each day in this magnificent country is more glorious than the one preceding it.”
“I’d not thought of the day as being glorious, but I reckon you might be on to something truthful there.” She kept her gaze straight ahead and he admired her profile. Her nose was straight, her cheekbones high and her chin sharp, giving her face a heart-shaped look. Her lips were full and a dusky kind of red, though he couldn’t tell if that was cosmetics or her own natural colour, though by any measure the looked soft.
Taking a breath, he wet his own lips. He had no call to be noticing such things.
