Looks like you’ve been busy,” he said as he set down the pail to survey the room.
“You found water!”
“There was a stream close by.” His gaze fixed on what she held in her hand. “I see you found my brandy.”
Refusing to be embarrassed, she walked over to hand the flask to him. “I did indeed.” She shot him a mischievous glance as he drank some. “Who would guess that the estimable Mr. Pinter, so high in the instep, drinks strong spirits?”
He scowled at her. “A little brandy on a cold day never hurt anyone. And I’m not high in the instep.”
“Oh? Didn’t you tell Gabe only last week that most lords were only good for redistributing funds from their estates into all the gaming hells and brothels in London, and ignoring their duty to God and country?”
When he flushed, she felt a twinge of conscience, but only a twinge. He looked so charming when he was flustered.
“I wasn’t implying that your family…”
“It’s all right,” she said, taking pity on him. He had saved her life, after all. “You have good reason to be high in the instep. And you’re not far wrong, in any case-there are many lords who are a blight upon society.”
He was quiet a long moment. “I hope you realize that I don’t think that of your brothers. Or your brother-in-law. They’re fine men.”
“Thank you.”
Removing his surtout, he walked over to hang it on top of her cloak, then stood there warming his hands at the fire. “I wish I could say the same about your cousins.

Auteur: Sabrina Jeffries