Oh, how very dull men were at times! If the two were going to get involved in fisticuffs, I wouldn’t be there to see it and be blamed. “If you gentlemen will excuse me, I have things to do.”
I started to leave.
“Allow me to escort you home,” Mr. McKinnon said. “Tis the right thing to do.”
I almost snorted. Since when did he ever do the right thing? When only moments ago I’d craved his attention, now it felt strange, wrong. “Oh, no, that won’t be…”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Gabe interrupted, pulling on his gloves. “I’m headed in that direction, I’ll take her.”
“My, what an embarrassment of riches,” I muttered, growing more annoyed with each passing moment. Why couldn’t they let me be?
They went silent. The very air felt stifling and stale. I’d seen it before…with dogs. Two men marking their territory. I had expected better of the titled and wealthy. Or maybe I’d just assumed Gabe wouldn’t care. I knew I was not so desirable that he’d risk his reputation. They were merely two wealthy men desperate to win. Dare I disappear into the crowd and let them battle it out alone? I doubted they’d realize I’d left. Apparently, all men, whether rich or poor, titled or not, were the same. Blimey idiots.
Mr. McKinnon glanced at me, looking for an answer I wasn’t sure I could give. I shifted, feeling restless and annoyed. All I knew was that if McKinnon and Gabe fought, somehow, I would be to blame.
I gave him a tight smile. “Pray, do let me be on my way. I am fine, thank you.”
He bowed low. I didn’t miss the annoyance in his eyes, as if he wanted to argue. “Very well.”
Without another word he turned and disappeared into the crowds, gone so quickly that I wondered if I’d imagined his interest. I slid Gabe a glance under my bonnet.
“Shall we?” he asked.
The wicked gleam of success in his eyes made me more than uneasy. What did he want with me? Why would a man like him stop his carriage, dare to move through a crowded market, for me? He didn’t belong here. I’d seen more than one unsavory cad look his way. Would serve him right if I disappeared, leaving him to fend for himself. No, not fend for himself; he had two footmen waiting close by.
Suddenly his hand darted out. With his gaze still pinned to me, he pulled a boy not quite ten close. The child looked up at him with wide, terrified eyes.
“I didn’t do nothin’, me lord! I swears it!”
Gabe held out his hand.
The boy hesitated, then with a frown, placed the pocket watch on Gabe’s palm. “Good lad.”
Gabe released his hold. The boy scurried off, disappearing into the crowd. He could have had the child arrested, but had let him go. I felt the reluctant workings of a grin. “Impressive. I didn’t even see the boy. I should have.”
“Come.” He didn’t wait for my response, but took my arm and led me toward a sleek, black carriage. If I rejected him, if I fought him off, it would only bring even more unwanted attention.
“Were you following me.” I tripped beside him, trying to keep pace as his footmen made a path for us to the carriage. “Or do you often come to the market, my lord?”
“Of course, I often visit the market,” he said dryly. “There’s nothing better than haggling with fishmongers to get your morning off on the right foot.”
“You don’t have to be rude,” I muttered.
We paused at his carriage. He tore the bag of ginger from my fingers and tossed it to one of the footmen. “See this gets to the Landcaster kitchen.”
Before I could guess his intentions, his hands were at my waist. Startled, I pressed my palms to his chest. Muscles. Dear lord, he was hard as steel. Only inches away, he met my gaze, our breaths mingled. His fingers felt so very warm, so very strong, so very large at my waist. Even through the leather of his gloves and the many layers of clothing I wore, his touch burned.
“Not rude,” he said. “Blunt.”
“Is there a difference?”
His fingers tightened around my waist, the skin searing. “The titled can afford to be blunt. While the poor are forced to be rude.”
He lifted me and tossed me into the carriage. With a yelp, I bounced on the leather seat. Why did I have the feeling I was being