prospect of the late-night invitation he'd received from a famous opera singer lifted his spirits. It all seemed like too much trouble.
He thought about the violet-eyed scamp under his roof. Earlier, when he'd told her he was selling Risen Glory, she'd looked as though he'd shot her.
His rumination was interrupted by the shatter of glass and his housekeeper's scream. He swore and dashed into the hall.
The bathroom was a shambles. Broken glass lay near the copper tub, and clothing was scattered across the floor. A container of talc had spilled over the marble basin and dusted the black walnut wainscoting. Only the water in the tub was undisturbed, pale gold in the light of the gas jets.
Kit was holding Mrs. Simmons at bay with a mirror. She had the handle clenched in one fist like a saber. Her other hand gripped a towel around her naked body as she backed the unfortunate housekeeper to the door. "Nobody's givin' me a bath! You get out of here!"
"What the hell's going on?"
Mrs. Simmons grabbed him. "That hoyden's trying to murder me! She threw a bottle of witch hazel! It just missed my head." She fanned her face and moaned. "I can feel an attack of my neuralgia coming on."
"Go lie down, Edith." Cain's flint-hard eyes found Kit. "I'll take over."
The housekeeper was too upset to protest the impropriety of leaving him alone with his naked ward, and she fled down the hallway muttering darkly of neuralgia and hoydens.
For all of Kit's bravado, he could see that she was frightened. Briefly he considered relenting, but he knew he wouldn't be doing her a favor. The world was a dangerous place for women, but it was doubly treacherous for naive little girls who believed they were as tough as men. Kit had to learn how to bend or she'd break, and right now he seemed to be the only one who could teach her that lesson.
Slowly, he unfastened the cuffs of his shirt and began rolling them up.
Kit watched the tanned, muscular forearms emerging as he turned up his sleeves. She took a quick step backward, her eyes glued to his arms. "What do you think you're doing?"
"I told you to take a bath."
Dry-mouthed, she drew her eyes away. It was hard enough facing down Baron Cain when she was fully clothed. Now, with only a towel wrapped around her, she'd never felt so vulnerable. If he hadn't locked away her gun, she could have pulled the trigger without a second thought.
She licked her lips. "You'd… you'd better stop that right now."
His eyes drilled into hers. " I told you to take a bath, and that's what you're going to do."
She raised the tortoiseshell mirror. "Don't come any closer. I mean it. When I threw that witch hazel bottle at Mrs. Simmons, I intended to miss. This time I won't!"
"It's time you grew up," he said too quietly.
Her heart pounded. "I mean it, Yankee! Not a step farther."
"You're eighteen—old enough to act like a woman. It's one thing to go after me, but you went after someone who never did you any harm."
"She took my clothes away when I wasn't paying attention! And… and then she dragged me in here."
Kit still didn't know how Mrs. Simmons had managed to get her to the bathroom, except that after Cain announced that he was selling Risen Glory, she'd gone numb. It was only when the old lady started pulling away her clothes that Kit had come to her senses.
He spoke again, using the calm voice she found more frightening than his roar. "You should have remembered your manners. Since you didn't, I'll put you in that tub."
She flung the mirror against the wall as a distraction and darted past him.
He caught her before she'd gone three steps. "You don't want to learn, do you?"
"Let me go!"
Glass crunched under the soles of his shoes as he snatched her up in his arms and dropped her in the tub, towel and all.
"You filthy, stinkin'—"
That was as far as she got before he caught the top of her head and pushed her under the water.
She came up sputtering. "You dirty—"
He pushed her back under.
"You—"
He
He thought about the violet-eyed scamp under his roof. Earlier, when he'd told her he was selling Risen Glory, she'd looked as though he'd shot her.
His rumination was interrupted by the shatter of glass and his housekeeper's scream. He swore and dashed into the hall.
The bathroom was a shambles. Broken glass lay near the copper tub, and clothing was scattered across the floor. A container of talc had spilled over the marble basin and dusted the black walnut wainscoting. Only the water in the tub was undisturbed, pale gold in the light of the gas jets.
Kit was holding Mrs. Simmons at bay with a mirror. She had the handle clenched in one fist like a saber. Her other hand gripped a towel around her naked body as she backed the unfortunate housekeeper to the door. "Nobody's givin' me a bath! You get out of here!"
"What the hell's going on?"
Mrs. Simmons grabbed him. "That hoyden's trying to murder me! She threw a bottle of witch hazel! It just missed my head." She fanned her face and moaned. "I can feel an attack of my neuralgia coming on."
"Go lie down, Edith." Cain's flint-hard eyes found Kit. "I'll take over."
The housekeeper was too upset to protest the impropriety of leaving him alone with his naked ward, and she fled down the hallway muttering darkly of neuralgia and hoydens.
For all of Kit's bravado, he could see that she was frightened. Briefly he considered relenting, but he knew he wouldn't be doing her a favor. The world was a dangerous place for women, but it was doubly treacherous for naive little girls who believed they were as tough as men. Kit had to learn how to bend or she'd break, and right now he seemed to be the only one who could teach her that lesson.
Slowly, he unfastened the cuffs of his shirt and began rolling them up.
Kit watched the tanned, muscular forearms emerging as he turned up his sleeves. She took a quick step backward, her eyes glued to his arms. "What do you think you're doing?"
"I told you to take a bath."
Dry-mouthed, she drew her eyes away. It was hard enough facing down Baron Cain when she was fully clothed. Now, with only a towel wrapped around her, she'd never felt so vulnerable. If he hadn't locked away her gun, she could have pulled the trigger without a second thought.
She licked her lips. "You'd… you'd better stop that right now."
His eyes drilled into hers. " I told you to take a bath, and that's what you're going to do."
She raised the tortoiseshell mirror. "Don't come any closer. I mean it. When I threw that witch hazel bottle at Mrs. Simmons, I intended to miss. This time I won't!"
"It's time you grew up," he said too quietly.
Her heart pounded. "I mean it, Yankee! Not a step farther."
"You're eighteen—old enough to act like a woman. It's one thing to go after me, but you went after someone who never did you any harm."
"She took my clothes away when I wasn't paying attention! And… and then she dragged me in here."
Kit still didn't know how Mrs. Simmons had managed to get her to the bathroom, except that after Cain announced that he was selling Risen Glory, she'd gone numb. It was only when the old lady started pulling away her clothes that Kit had come to her senses.
He spoke again, using the calm voice she found more frightening than his roar. "You should have remembered your manners. Since you didn't, I'll put you in that tub."
She flung the mirror against the wall as a distraction and darted past him.
He caught her before she'd gone three steps. "You don't want to learn, do you?"
"Let me go!"
Glass crunched under the soles of his shoes as he snatched her up in his arms and dropped her in the tub, towel and all.
"You filthy, stinkin'—"
That was as far as she got before he caught the top of her head and pushed her under the water.
She came up sputtering. "You dirty—"
He pushed her back under.
"You—"
He
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