Page 22 of Wicked with Him

Amity turned to him with a sunny smile. “Thank you for the view of your book. I’m sure you’ll find a worthy home for it very soon.”

The bookseller seemed inclined to stay, but eventually snatched up his satchel and headed back to the village marketplace.

Crawford watched him go and then tossed her an orange, which she only just managed to catch. “For your supper.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, keeping watch on the bookseller’s retreat. Of all the nerve to assume she was lonely and wanted an old man’s company! She would never have invited him in, and she might never grace his bookstall again, either.

Crawford’s eyes narrowed, and then he looked over his shoulder and back to her again. “Was he bothering you, sweetheart?”

“No.” She nibbled her lip. So far, she’d been deft at deflecting unwanted attention from gentlemen because she claimed to have a husband somewhere. But she supposed her ruse could only last so long. She’d always had her brother or her family name to protect her from opportunists and true scoundrels. She feared the bookseller might even come back. Obviously he was very lonely. “He might have become a problem, had you not come along when you did,” she admitted reluctantly.

Crawford turned and flung his orange at the bookseller’s back. “Don’t let me see your face again!” he cried out in a huge and startlingly loud voice.

Amity noticed with some satisfaction that the bookseller definitely hastened his escape, grinning when he was out of sight. “Thank you for that, but you shouldn’t have.”

“It was a pleasure to protect you from a scoundrel, especially an old one.” Crawford offered a flourishing bow, and then dug in his pocket and produced a single flower to hand to her. “Something to brighten your afternoon.”

She was truly touched by the gesture and lifted the flower to her nose. “This is just what I need to lift my spirits after that interview.”

He smiled so warmly that her toes curled in her boots. “Madam, I’ve come with a proposition that might lift them even more.”

“A proposition for what?”

He pointed behind him. “A stroll up that hill. I’ve heard from the very best source that the grandest views are to be had from up there.”

Amity considered going along but quickly changed her mind. It was too great a risk, even if she thought she might really enjoy spending more time with him.

He leaned close. “If you’re concerned about any impropriety, I’ll have you know I’ve taken any number of strolls and carriage rides with married ladies with no one thinking much of it.”

She drew back from him. “That is an unpleasant thing to say to me.”

“It shouldn’t be, since you’re pretending to be a married woman yourself.”

“Ah, I see.” She felt like such a goose for not remembering some of the rules no longer applied to her. “I did not think of it quite that way when it came to you, though.”

He beamed at her and held out his arm. Since she’d already closed the door to her cottage, and dinner wouldn’t be ready for some time, she accepted his offer of escort without a qualm now. She slipped her arm through his and showed him to the beginning of the upward slope. “I’ve never dared go up by myself.”

“But you’ve gone with others.”

“No. But others go all the time. Especially courting couples.”

“Perfect,” he said, beaming her another smile. “We shall enjoy our first look at the district together. It seems a pretty place from the lower ground,” he noted.

“I agree. I must admit, I was very pleased that Fairbridge sent me here rather than to the ducal estate.”

Crawford nodded. “He sent you to be near his lover’s husband’s estate.”

“I’m not actually sure they’re lovers,” she hastened to say, wanting to speak no ill of her cousin. “But they did seem very close.”

Crawford patted her hand. “Must be, if he took you to her home the night of your ruin.”

She looked at him in surprise. “How did you…”

“I told you. I asked better questions than your brother ever did and figured it out,” he assured her.

They were silent for the climb and at the top, they were both a little breathless after the steepest part. “The view is spectacular,” Crawford exclaimed, walking about with his arms wide.

Amity laughed at his enthusiasm, caught up in it. “You don’t get this sort of view in London.”