insist."
He was once again cool and detached. Elizabeth studied him as he rounded his desk and resumed his place behind it. Certainly she had no wish to remain beholden to him, yet if the truth be told, her money would scarcely buy lodgings for more than several nights.
"I truly appreciate your offer," she said slowly. "But I am well now and it isn't proper for you and I"—she faltered—"that is to say, for the two of us to…" She stopped, unable to continue.
To her surprise, he gave a harsh laugh. "And what if I were to tell you the good people of Boston expect no less from me? Propriety be damned! The matter is settled and I'll hear no further argument."
Elizabeth hesitated. Oddly, that was not what bothered her the most. "I do not mean to argue, sir. But I am already in your debt and have no wish to—"
"For pity's sake," he growled, "you are hardly beholden to me. But if you wish, I will make you a bargain."
Elizabeth blinked. This was the last thing she expected. Still, she couldn't entirely erase the assumption that leaped to the fore. Morgan O'Connor was young, handsome, and unmarried. But he was still a man, no doubt a man with an appetite for the opposite sex…
"Wh-what sort of bargain?"
Little did she realize she might well have shouted the thought from the rooftop. "God in heaven," he said impatiently. "You are hardly to my taste, so you needn't look at me as if I expect you to exchange your body for the bed you sleep in! This, my dear girl, is the bargain I propose. Simmons grows old and is unable to do as much as he once did, though he would never admit it. I merely ask that you assist in matters of the household—planning meals, overseeing the maids' work. Now, do we understand each other?"
By now Elizabeth's face was flame-red. Yet curiously, she felt wounded without knowing quite why. "Yes," she managed.
"Then do we have a bargain?"
Her nod was jerky. It was all she could do.
"Good."
He swiveled his chair. Reaching into a drawer, he dropped a sheaf of papers on the desktop. She'd been forgotten, she realized.
Rising, she gathered her skirts in one hand and fled the study. Outside in the hallway, she stopped and leaned back against the wall. A nervous laugh escaped. How silly she was to think Morgan O'Connor might find her attractive and take advantage of her situation.
But he would send someone to try to find Nathaniel—that alone was worth having faced the dragon in his lair. Why it was so, Elizabeth had no idea, for he was a complete enigma. Indeed, she would swear he was less than pleased at the prospect. But even as she wondered what had happened that he disliked his own brother, relief flooded her veins. He had relented, and she would ask no more of him.
All that was left to do was to wait and hope…
And pray that Nathaniel was found soon.
Chapter 5
« ^ »
Hours later, Morgan still sat in his study, a black cloak of darkness surrounding him.
Lord, but he was a fool.
Damn…
damn
! He cursed himself vilely, even as he cursed her. He'd felt himself weakening, feeling sorry for her. Yet he almost hated her for it, for bringing up the past, reminding him of all he longed to forget.
Christ, he thought blackly. If she only knew… How could she be so blind? Nathaniel was anything but noble. But he
was
a charmer, Morgan reflected bitterly, particularly with the ladies.
A twinge of guilt bit at him. It wasn't in his nature to lie. And he
hadn't
lied, he told himself…
Yet he hadn't been entirely truthful either. True, he didn't know
where
Nathaniel was. But Morgan had no doubt he'd find him in the arms of his latest whore, and what would the elegant Lady Elizabeth Stanton think of that?
A vision of her flitted through his mind's eye, as she'd appeared only hours before. Vulnerable and pleading. Tears standing high and bright, turning her eyes to shimmering emerald. Tears he had sensed cost her no little amount of pride…
He shouldn't have cared. By God, he
didn't
care. But
He was once again cool and detached. Elizabeth studied him as he rounded his desk and resumed his place behind it. Certainly she had no wish to remain beholden to him, yet if the truth be told, her money would scarcely buy lodgings for more than several nights.
"I truly appreciate your offer," she said slowly. "But I am well now and it isn't proper for you and I"—she faltered—"that is to say, for the two of us to…" She stopped, unable to continue.
To her surprise, he gave a harsh laugh. "And what if I were to tell you the good people of Boston expect no less from me? Propriety be damned! The matter is settled and I'll hear no further argument."
Elizabeth hesitated. Oddly, that was not what bothered her the most. "I do not mean to argue, sir. But I am already in your debt and have no wish to—"
"For pity's sake," he growled, "you are hardly beholden to me. But if you wish, I will make you a bargain."
Elizabeth blinked. This was the last thing she expected. Still, she couldn't entirely erase the assumption that leaped to the fore. Morgan O'Connor was young, handsome, and unmarried. But he was still a man, no doubt a man with an appetite for the opposite sex…
"Wh-what sort of bargain?"
Little did she realize she might well have shouted the thought from the rooftop. "God in heaven," he said impatiently. "You are hardly to my taste, so you needn't look at me as if I expect you to exchange your body for the bed you sleep in! This, my dear girl, is the bargain I propose. Simmons grows old and is unable to do as much as he once did, though he would never admit it. I merely ask that you assist in matters of the household—planning meals, overseeing the maids' work. Now, do we understand each other?"
By now Elizabeth's face was flame-red. Yet curiously, she felt wounded without knowing quite why. "Yes," she managed.
"Then do we have a bargain?"
Her nod was jerky. It was all she could do.
"Good."
He swiveled his chair. Reaching into a drawer, he dropped a sheaf of papers on the desktop. She'd been forgotten, she realized.
Rising, she gathered her skirts in one hand and fled the study. Outside in the hallway, she stopped and leaned back against the wall. A nervous laugh escaped. How silly she was to think Morgan O'Connor might find her attractive and take advantage of her situation.
But he would send someone to try to find Nathaniel—that alone was worth having faced the dragon in his lair. Why it was so, Elizabeth had no idea, for he was a complete enigma. Indeed, she would swear he was less than pleased at the prospect. But even as she wondered what had happened that he disliked his own brother, relief flooded her veins. He had relented, and she would ask no more of him.
All that was left to do was to wait and hope…
And pray that Nathaniel was found soon.
Chapter 5
« ^ »
Hours later, Morgan still sat in his study, a black cloak of darkness surrounding him.
Lord, but he was a fool.
Damn…
damn
! He cursed himself vilely, even as he cursed her. He'd felt himself weakening, feeling sorry for her. Yet he almost hated her for it, for bringing up the past, reminding him of all he longed to forget.
Christ, he thought blackly. If she only knew… How could she be so blind? Nathaniel was anything but noble. But he
was
a charmer, Morgan reflected bitterly, particularly with the ladies.
A twinge of guilt bit at him. It wasn't in his nature to lie. And he
hadn't
lied, he told himself…
Yet he hadn't been entirely truthful either. True, he didn't know
where
Nathaniel was. But Morgan had no doubt he'd find him in the arms of his latest whore, and what would the elegant Lady Elizabeth Stanton think of that?
A vision of her flitted through his mind's eye, as she'd appeared only hours before. Vulnerable and pleading. Tears standing high and bright, turning her eyes to shimmering emerald. Tears he had sensed cost her no little amount of pride…
He shouldn't have cared. By God, he
didn't
care. But
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