character.
"How observant of you to notice something as mundane as my habitual activities," she said curiously.
"I notice everything, Miss Sinclair." His gaze wandered over her face, fell to the opening of her cape, scanned the outline of her breasts hidden beneath the unflattering muslin.
"And what of you?" she asked, swallowing deeply to stop her face from flushing. She had seen the bare behind of many a grunting lord, yet one suggestive glance and her cheeks flamed. "What odd mannerisms or traits reveal your preferred way of coping with pain?"
She knew the answer but wanted to hear it fall from his lips. Just thinking about how he may have suffered conjured an image of the scars marring the otherwise perfect skin on his back.
"I work."
The words were cold, blunt, yet clear. Judging by his muscular physique and sun-kissed complexion, he'd met with more than his fair share of distressing ordeals.
As they drifted away from the stall, she recalled the advice he'd given her over suppressing one's feelings and decided to use it against him.
"You can talk to me. It is not good or healthy to keep your feelings hidden."
A smile touched the corners of his mouth. "Who told you that?"
She laughed. "You did."
"Then I'm a fool masquerading as a great philosopher."
They paused on the path, and she pointed to the juggler demonstrating how easy it was to throw five apples into the air without dropping a single one.
"Or perhaps you are a great philosopher pretending to be a fool." She kept her eyes on the juggler but could feel Mr. Danbury's penetrating stare. "I believe your words reflect a certain wisdom. It is your grumpy countenance that makes you seem like a ninny."
"Grumpy?" he snorted. "Even a court jester would appear sullen when compared to Tristan."
"Now that's the fool talking again. It is not wise to compare yourself to others." She glanced at his cravat; the folds were less crisp and symmetrical than they ought to be. Even though he had tied his dark wavy hair back in a queue, he still bore the look of a rogue-come-pirate. "As a man who refuses to conform and dresses as he pleases, I expected you to know that."
"It was merely an observation," he said. "I have always had an air of discontent. I find, that way, one is never disappointed."
"And so that is how you deal with pain, besides working, of course. You make everyone believe you don't care."
"I find it more preferable than praying for salvation."
"Again, we all have our ways of coping." Anna breathed a sigh. "Now, I don't know about you, but I am tired of talking about feeling miserable and wretched. I suggest we find something to enliven our spirits."
"I have no objection." Mr. Danbury raised a sinful brow as he moistened his lips. "What did you have in mind?"
She could tell from his tone that his thoughts were licentious. In a bid to help ease his air of discontent, Anna decided, from now on, she would always be open and honest with him.
"Nothing amorous," she said, threading her arm through his and directing him along the path. "There are other ways to entertain oneself."
"Are there? I have yet to find anything as stimulating."
Oh, he had not lied. He did have a consummate skill for seduction. The smooth tone of his voice caused her breath to come a little quicker. The glint in his eye caused her heart to skip a beat.
"Then we must attempt to find something to satisfy you," she said as they passed a stall selling carved figures. "What about shaping wood? I'm sure it is an extremely relaxing pursuit."
"Possibly," he nodded, tucking her hand more securely into the crook of his arm. "I do enjoy running my hands over smooth surfaces."
Anna pursed her lips to prevent a chuckle from escaping. "What about composing songs or poetry based on myths and legends?" she said as they passed a minstrel singing a ballad.
"I'm certain I could make you sing a merry tune." His heated gaze penetrated her clothing, seeped into her skin to warm her blood. "I suppose
"How observant of you to notice something as mundane as my habitual activities," she said curiously.
"I notice everything, Miss Sinclair." His gaze wandered over her face, fell to the opening of her cape, scanned the outline of her breasts hidden beneath the unflattering muslin.
"And what of you?" she asked, swallowing deeply to stop her face from flushing. She had seen the bare behind of many a grunting lord, yet one suggestive glance and her cheeks flamed. "What odd mannerisms or traits reveal your preferred way of coping with pain?"
She knew the answer but wanted to hear it fall from his lips. Just thinking about how he may have suffered conjured an image of the scars marring the otherwise perfect skin on his back.
"I work."
The words were cold, blunt, yet clear. Judging by his muscular physique and sun-kissed complexion, he'd met with more than his fair share of distressing ordeals.
As they drifted away from the stall, she recalled the advice he'd given her over suppressing one's feelings and decided to use it against him.
"You can talk to me. It is not good or healthy to keep your feelings hidden."
A smile touched the corners of his mouth. "Who told you that?"
She laughed. "You did."
"Then I'm a fool masquerading as a great philosopher."
They paused on the path, and she pointed to the juggler demonstrating how easy it was to throw five apples into the air without dropping a single one.
"Or perhaps you are a great philosopher pretending to be a fool." She kept her eyes on the juggler but could feel Mr. Danbury's penetrating stare. "I believe your words reflect a certain wisdom. It is your grumpy countenance that makes you seem like a ninny."
"Grumpy?" he snorted. "Even a court jester would appear sullen when compared to Tristan."
"Now that's the fool talking again. It is not wise to compare yourself to others." She glanced at his cravat; the folds were less crisp and symmetrical than they ought to be. Even though he had tied his dark wavy hair back in a queue, he still bore the look of a rogue-come-pirate. "As a man who refuses to conform and dresses as he pleases, I expected you to know that."
"It was merely an observation," he said. "I have always had an air of discontent. I find, that way, one is never disappointed."
"And so that is how you deal with pain, besides working, of course. You make everyone believe you don't care."
"I find it more preferable than praying for salvation."
"Again, we all have our ways of coping." Anna breathed a sigh. "Now, I don't know about you, but I am tired of talking about feeling miserable and wretched. I suggest we find something to enliven our spirits."
"I have no objection." Mr. Danbury raised a sinful brow as he moistened his lips. "What did you have in mind?"
She could tell from his tone that his thoughts were licentious. In a bid to help ease his air of discontent, Anna decided, from now on, she would always be open and honest with him.
"Nothing amorous," she said, threading her arm through his and directing him along the path. "There are other ways to entertain oneself."
"Are there? I have yet to find anything as stimulating."
Oh, he had not lied. He did have a consummate skill for seduction. The smooth tone of his voice caused her breath to come a little quicker. The glint in his eye caused her heart to skip a beat.
"Then we must attempt to find something to satisfy you," she said as they passed a stall selling carved figures. "What about shaping wood? I'm sure it is an extremely relaxing pursuit."
"Possibly," he nodded, tucking her hand more securely into the crook of his arm. "I do enjoy running my hands over smooth surfaces."
Anna pursed her lips to prevent a chuckle from escaping. "What about composing songs or poetry based on myths and legends?" she said as they passed a minstrel singing a ballad.
"I'm certain I could make you sing a merry tune." His heated gaze penetrated her clothing, seeped into her skin to warm her blood. "I suppose
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