The Bareknuckle Groom - Holly Bush Page 0,29

in comparison, Miss Vermeal.”

They looked at each other for a few long minutes, long enough that Aunt turned away to another piece of artwork, leaving Lucinda to drink in the sight of him, his freshly shaven cheeks, his twinkling green eyes and dark tousled hair. She desperately wanted to touch him, push back the curl of hair that was falling over his brow or touch the bump on his nose. He lost his grin as she leaned toward him, her breath coming in shallow pants.

“James!” she heard from behind him and leaned back quickly.

“MacAvoy is here, James. Did you see him? Oh. Hullo.”

She smiled at the young man, who was now staring at her. He looked remarkably like James but with auburn hair. He would break some hearts in a few years.

“Miss Vermeal? My brother, Payden. Payden, this is Miss Lucinda Vermeal and her aunt, Miss Vermeal,” James said.

“How do you do,” she said.

“Very well.” He smiled at her. “Now that I’ve gotten to meet the prettiest lady in the room.”

“Payden,” James said sharply. “Mind your manners.”

“She is the prettiest lady in the room,” the boy said.

“I’m well aware of that, but you don’t go . . .” James took a breath. “Miss Vermeal, please excuse my younger brother’s manners.”

Aunt laughed. “This one will be a favorite of the ladies, I think.”

“James?”

They all turned to a younger woman and an elderly one who’d just smacked James’s arm with a fan.

“Misses Vermeal? This is my oldest sister, Muireall Thompson, and my aunt—actually, my Great-Aunt Murdoch. This is Miss Lucinda Vermeal and her aunt, Miss Vermeal.”

James put a hand on the back of Payden’s neck to keep him from staring at Lucinda Vermeal’s cleavage. He was having enough trouble himself keeping his eyes on her face and not on those very, very white breasts, lounging in folds of rose-colored silk and moving with her every breath.

She and Muireall were having an interesting stare that lasted a few moments, neither woman smiling or showing any hint of welcome. Aunt Murdoch, however, had sized up the situation with a quick glance.

“Miss Vermeal?” Aunt Murdoch said to Lucinda’s aunt. “Won’t you take a turn around the room with me? When I’m visiting my niece Elspeth, I never have time to admire all the pictures and whatnot that she and her husband display.”

“Certainly, Mrs. Murdoch.”

“Payden and I have yet to speak to Elspeth’s in-laws. Excuse us,” Muireall said with a last long look at Lucinda. He turned back to her.

“You’ve met the whole clan now.” He smiled at her, thinking he had her to himself for a few minutes.

“Your sister is formidable,” she said.

“That’s one word for her,” he said. “But she is the way she is because she’s had great responsibility placed on her shoulders since she was twelve years old. Someday I’ll tell you that story.”

“And your aunt is a schemer.” She smiled wryly.

“’Tis a good description of Aunt Murdoch, and if it means I get a few minutes alone with you, then I am heartily glad she is one.”

“You’re a flatterer, just like that young brother of yours. He looks like you.”

James gazed across the room at Payden as he was speaking to Alexander’s parents. They laughed at something he said. “Hopefully, his studies will induce him to be something different than me.”

“Why do you want him to be different than you?”

He glanced at her. “Because I don’t want him to get paid to get his brains bashed in.”

“That’s just an occupation.”

“Just an occupation?”

“Yes. Just an occupation. We are all more than what we do to earn our living, although women have virtually no opportunity to earn anything.”

“Rich women may not. But come to my neighborhood and you’ll find plenty of women who work, either in the mills or breweries or some business out of their home.”

“You’re very angry today,” she said softly. “And I don’t think it’s because I come from a wealthy family.”

“I’m not angry.” He looked away from her.

She reached for the champagne she’d sat on a marble table earlier and walked away from him.

Damn her, he thought. She had the ability to read his moods like no one he’d ever met, other than maybe MacAvoy, but he could fool his best friend if he tried, and James had a feeling he’d never be able to fool her. And she had no patience with him when he was untruthful or changed the subject away from something he did not wish to discuss.

He looked up from his musings and found himself