charms.”
“Absolutely not,” Stephen said, looking down at him. “Miss Jones has no idea I’m pursuing her.”
Lady Hartley marched over to him and angled her head at Miss Hartley. “Enough with pursuits, Captain. You can stand completely still with Miranda. She’s right here, waiting. And you won’t have to worry about lining your pockets before declaring yourself.”
“I’d really rather you stay out of my private business.” Stephen glared at them both.
“Let’s go, Arrow,” Sir Ned urged him.
Stephen realized he must change tactics. His unfortunate relative would find a way to confront Miss Jones sooner or later. So he opened the front door a crack. “I’ll let you through,” he told the baronet, “but if you interfere with my plans to woo her, there will be hell to pay. Am I making myself clear?”
Finally, Sir Ned paused. But he wasn’t terribly cowed. He still had a fervent light in his eyes. “Very well,” he acceded. “But if I find she can’t hold a candle to my Miranda, I’m going to sit up with you tonight, lad, and we’ll discuss your future over a bottle of port. You could have quite a cushy life as my son-in-law.”
Stephen couldn’t bear to hear any more. “I’m going to let you out now,” he said. “But first, I’d like a few moments with her myself. Then you may join us.”
He opened the door all the way and headed to Hodgepodge, Sir Ned gasping behind him.
Stephen whirled around. “Remember,” he warned the baronet, “wait here.”
Sir Ned actually stopped. Now all Stephen had to do was tell Miss Jones to go along with his ruse that he had plans to pursue her. Pursue her for what, he couldn’t say. She wouldn’t approve of a scorching flirtation, and marriage was out of the question.
He’d remain as vague as possible.
It shouldn’t be too difficult.
Good God, of course it would be difficult!
The street, as usual, was deserted. Miss Jones had left her flowers and gone back inside.
Stephen strode into Hodgepodge so fast, the door flew back on its hinges. “Where is she?” he asked Otis.
Otis looked up with a grin. “Hello, Captain. We’re closed, of course. But you’re always welcome. Things have been quiet at your house this afternoon.”
Miss Jones, who was sweeping the floor, looked over her shoulder at him. “A refreshing change,” she added.
Now was not the time to spar with her, so Stephen let the comment pass.
He was pleased to see she looked almost disappointed.
“How may I help you, Captain?” she asked coolly, and put aside her broom.
He raked a hand through his hair, reluctant to reveal to her that he was in an untenable situation. “My unexpected—and unwelcome—guests have ruined all my party plans,” he confessed. “It’s because of them that I’m calling upon you now.”
“Do tell,” Otis urged him, a concerned wrinkle on his brow.
“It’s not good.” Stephen braced himself and looked Miss Jones square in the eye. “They want to marry me off to their daughter, so I told them I was interested in pursuing your acquaintance.” He inhaled a breath, then went on. “Of course, they think I mean marriage.”
Her eyes flew wide and she put a hand over her heart. “That’s impossible!”
“I understand I didn’t ask your permission to tell such an untruth,” Stephen said with an attempt at a grin, “but surely the idea’s not that outrageous.”
“Oh, yes it is.” Miss Jones’s face was bright red.
Otis looked almost as unsteady as his mistress. “I do believe I’ll brush my spare coat,” he said, and left through the rear door of the shop.
“I heard today from Otis, who heard it from a shopkeeper on Brook Street, that you’re an Impossible Bachelor,” Miss Jones said, her fists on her hips. “That title only confirms my suspicions about you.”
Stephen felt a momentary pique. “It’s not my fault Prinny chose me for the title, but what has that to do with anything anyway?”
“First of all,
“Absolutely not,” Stephen said, looking down at him. “Miss Jones has no idea I’m pursuing her.”
Lady Hartley marched over to him and angled her head at Miss Hartley. “Enough with pursuits, Captain. You can stand completely still with Miranda. She’s right here, waiting. And you won’t have to worry about lining your pockets before declaring yourself.”
“I’d really rather you stay out of my private business.” Stephen glared at them both.
“Let’s go, Arrow,” Sir Ned urged him.
Stephen realized he must change tactics. His unfortunate relative would find a way to confront Miss Jones sooner or later. So he opened the front door a crack. “I’ll let you through,” he told the baronet, “but if you interfere with my plans to woo her, there will be hell to pay. Am I making myself clear?”
Finally, Sir Ned paused. But he wasn’t terribly cowed. He still had a fervent light in his eyes. “Very well,” he acceded. “But if I find she can’t hold a candle to my Miranda, I’m going to sit up with you tonight, lad, and we’ll discuss your future over a bottle of port. You could have quite a cushy life as my son-in-law.”
Stephen couldn’t bear to hear any more. “I’m going to let you out now,” he said. “But first, I’d like a few moments with her myself. Then you may join us.”
He opened the door all the way and headed to Hodgepodge, Sir Ned gasping behind him.
Stephen whirled around. “Remember,” he warned the baronet, “wait here.”
Sir Ned actually stopped. Now all Stephen had to do was tell Miss Jones to go along with his ruse that he had plans to pursue her. Pursue her for what, he couldn’t say. She wouldn’t approve of a scorching flirtation, and marriage was out of the question.
He’d remain as vague as possible.
It shouldn’t be too difficult.
Good God, of course it would be difficult!
The street, as usual, was deserted. Miss Jones had left her flowers and gone back inside.
Stephen strode into Hodgepodge so fast, the door flew back on its hinges. “Where is she?” he asked Otis.
Otis looked up with a grin. “Hello, Captain. We’re closed, of course. But you’re always welcome. Things have been quiet at your house this afternoon.”
Miss Jones, who was sweeping the floor, looked over her shoulder at him. “A refreshing change,” she added.
Now was not the time to spar with her, so Stephen let the comment pass.
He was pleased to see she looked almost disappointed.
“How may I help you, Captain?” she asked coolly, and put aside her broom.
He raked a hand through his hair, reluctant to reveal to her that he was in an untenable situation. “My unexpected—and unwelcome—guests have ruined all my party plans,” he confessed. “It’s because of them that I’m calling upon you now.”
“Do tell,” Otis urged him, a concerned wrinkle on his brow.
“It’s not good.” Stephen braced himself and looked Miss Jones square in the eye. “They want to marry me off to their daughter, so I told them I was interested in pursuing your acquaintance.” He inhaled a breath, then went on. “Of course, they think I mean marriage.”
Her eyes flew wide and she put a hand over her heart. “That’s impossible!”
“I understand I didn’t ask your permission to tell such an untruth,” Stephen said with an attempt at a grin, “but surely the idea’s not that outrageous.”
“Oh, yes it is.” Miss Jones’s face was bright red.
Otis looked almost as unsteady as his mistress. “I do believe I’ll brush my spare coat,” he said, and left through the rear door of the shop.
“I heard today from Otis, who heard it from a shopkeeper on Brook Street, that you’re an Impossible Bachelor,” Miss Jones said, her fists on her hips. “That title only confirms my suspicions about you.”
Stephen felt a momentary pique. “It’s not my fault Prinny chose me for the title, but what has that to do with anything anyway?”
“First of all,
Similar Books
