Page 27 of Redemption of a Marquess

“I am no miscreant,” the man growled. “I only want to be paid for my delivery.”

She narrowed her eyes on him. “I will not pay for something I didn’t order.”

The deliveryman shook a piece of paper in her face. “I cannae sell the fresh vegetables anywhere else. They will rot.”

“That is your mistake,” she said.

The man opened his mouth to rebut, but Valan stood and said, “May I ask who ordered the, er, vegetables, is it?”

The man thrust his paper toward Valan. Valan took it and scanned the list. He looked at Mrs. McPhee. “Who wrote the list?”

“That is Brenda’s handwriting.”

“Brenda?” Valan searched his memory. “She assists in the kitchen?”

Mrs. McPhee nodded.

“Then you did order the vegetables,” he said.

She shook her head. “If ye look at the amounts, they have been scratched out and larger portions written in. This man is trying to cheat us.”

“I never cheated anyone in my life,” the deliveryman burst out.

Valan looked at the list again. “Is this the first order of vegetables for the party?”

“It is,” replied Mrs. McPhee.

“In fact, it doesn’t seem to be enough for the two hundred and fifty guests we invited,” he said. “I expect at least fifty more spouses and friends to accompany the invited guests.”

“I told ye that you needed more,” the delivery man interjected.

“I will not buy more vegetables until I am sure we need more,” Mrs. McPhee shot back. “His lordship doesn’t like to waste money.”

“While I appreciate your consideration, Mrs. McPhee, I do, in fact, waste money, and quite often,” Valan said. “This does not seem to me an exorbitant amount to spend on vegetables.”

“We cannae trust a man who tries to bilk us,” she insisted.

The man swung to face her squarely and was forced to look up at her. “I willnae have my honor called into question.”

“Honor?” she cried. “Thieves have no honor.”

The man stepped closer. Mrs. McPhee drew back a fist and drove it into his jaw. He jerked left. Valan glimpsed Miss Stone’s slippered foot shoot out right before the man tripped over her foot and flailed backwards two steps. Jeanine leapt to her feet. The deliveryman crashed into the game table. Wood splintered and game pieces flew everywhere. Valan took three steps and stopped beside him.

“He’s broken your table,” Jeanine cried.

“So he has.”

The man sat up and gave his head a shake. He started to push to his feet.

“I suggest you stay down,” Valan said. “Mrs. McPhee outweighs you by at least two stone.”

The man looked up at him and blinked. “What?”

“As you may have guessed, Mrs. McPhee does not back down from a fight,” Valan said.

The man’s dazed eyes slipped past him. His face reddened and he struggled to his feet. “I demand my money.”

“Why you scoundrel,” Mrs. McPhee muttered darkly.