Tempting Taffy (House of Devon #8) - Meara Platt Page 0,42
men and I will remain vigilant. I’ll set up hourly rounds to inspect all doors and windows and from now on, my runners will work in pairs.”
“Aye, Mr. Barrow. I like the idea. Even if injured, Lord Gordon can easily overpower one man alone. Everyone works in teams of two. If you must use him, then pair Watkins with a man of equal experience. I dinna want him in a position of command or placed at an important post.”
Mr. Barrow nodded. “Very well, m’lord. It shall be done.”
“Thank ye,” he said and dismissed him. As soon as the door shut, he turned to Taffy. “Lass, I’d like a word with ye.”
She was reluctant to leave Rafe’s side, not only because she liked being with the boy. But the marquis meant to give her a talking to and she was not in any obedient or respectful humor at the moment. “Yes, my lord. Of course. Would you care to join us? We can chat while we play.”
“No, I would like ye to come here. I want to speak to ye in private.”
She sighed, playfully ruffled Rafe’s hair, and then rose to come to his side as he asked. “If you insist.”
He chuckled. “I do. Och, ye’re a contrary lass.”
“And I wish you hadn’t made an issue of Mr. Watkins after I clearly asked you not to.”
“I was right about him and ye know it.” He said nothing more until he’d walked her over to a settee beside the rear wall of stacks and then settled beside her when she sat down. “Ye felt it as well, didn’t ye? Dinna bother to deny it, I saw it in the telltale nibble of yer lips. There was an undercurrent of insolence in his every remark. Even when he stood silently while Mr. Barrow spoke. Ye canno’ deny it, Taffy.”
She nodded. “I did sense it. But resentment is a far thing from betrayal.”
“Resentment can be just as dangerous.” He leaned back and stretched his arm across the back of the settee. “He may have no intention of betraying us, but even the slightest hesitation on his part can have tragic consequences. Think on it, lass. This is no different than being in the heat of battle. If I’m the soldier whose duty it is to protect ye, I canno’ be sitting back smugly while others attack ye. I canno’ be waiting just that little bit extra before coming to yer defense.”
“He wouldn’t–”
“He would and ye know it, lass. He’s already convinced himself it would serve Miss High-and-Mighty Taffy Ralson right to be getting out of a scrape on her own. I meant to let him know that if ye got hurt, he’s the one I’ll be coming after.”
She rolled her eyes, trying to convey her disapproval. However, she could not help but feel giddy and warmed by his arrogant protectiveness. She had not been offended when he’d approached her without his shirt on, either. She’d been too busy absorbing the delicious heat of his body and scent of lather from his shave.
She’d wanted to touch him, stroke his skin and run her hands over his beautiful muscles. She’d even wanted to put her lips to his neck and nibble on it to taste him. Would his skin taste salty? Or like Scottish shortbread or oatmeal? “I think our attentions are better left apprehending Lord Gordon and not scaring the wits out those who are on our side.”
“Och, ye’re giving me that pinch-lipped look again. Lass, ye do realize that I find ye beautiful even when yer face resembles a prune. But I’ve said what I needed to say on the matter of Watkins. I know Mr. Barrow will keep an eye on him.”
He leaned closer and his manner softened. “There’s more I need to say to ye. I owe ye an apology for earlier. Ye’re a lady, and I dinna have the right to make ye uncomfortable.”
She grinned. “Do you mean your shirtless prancing earlier?”
“Och, I was no’ prancing. And I dinna expect ye and Rafe to burst in with a holler and a slam of the door. Had ye done it a minute earlier, I would have startled and probably slit my throat shaving.”
“Oh, then it is I who–”
“No, lass. Dinna apologize to me for showing my son so much love, he is happier than I’ve ever seen him in his life. The point I am trying to make is that I was in the wrong. I ought to have made myself decent