Chapter Twenty #3
Eoin’s mother hung back, her hands opening and closing. She clearly wanted to hug her son, but obviously thought she’d lost the right.
“Go ahead,” Hannah told her quietly. “He wants to be held by you.”
Championess Quick didn’t need additional encouragement. She shot across the room with a fleetness that had made her a formidable opponent in the ring. In one giant swoop, she gathered both her children into her arms. Méibh went wild, but no one paid her any regard.
“We heard about the bear!” Lizzie said. “Why didn’t you mention it in your missive to meet you here?”
“I didn’t want to worry you,” Eoin said, which earned him a light bop on his shoulder from his sister—at least Hannah assumed the bop was light. With Lizzie, one couldn’t be sure. Eoin showed no reaction to it, though.
“That is a silly reason,” Lizzie informed him. “We’ve fretted over each other for nearly twenty years because we didn’t know what the other was enduring. Keeping secrets won’t stop the worrying.”
“You are unharmed?” Championess Quick asked, pulling back from her children to run her gaze over Eoin.
“Yes,” Eoin said. “Méibh, the fowl currently at my feet, distracted the beast long enough for Miss Wick and I to reach shelter.”
Both women glanced down at the gosling, who was currently stuck in Lizzie’s petticoats. Lizzie lifted her outer skirt, and Méibh popped free—a ball of frustrated rage.
“She does appear to be a scrappy warrior.” Lizzie peered down at Méibh as the little bird tried to charge her again.
“My kind of fighter.” Championess Quick chuckled, and Hannah caught a glimpse of the real woman beneath the reserved facade. Each one of her layers was so much like her son’s.
“How did you hear about the bear?” Eoin asked. “Do you know Dr. Matthew Talbot?”
“There’s talk of it all over London!” Lizzie said. “It’s not every day that a duke is nearly eaten by a wild beast in Mayfair.”
“I wouldn’t say nearly eat—” Eoin started to say.
“They say that you wrestled with it.” Lizzie poked her brother in the ribs. “Which, if that is the case, we need to get you into the ring with that kind of talent.”
“There was no wrestling,” Eoin said quickly. “Only running.”
“That does not nearly make for as good a romantic story as the one being told.” Lizzie sighed theatrically before she sobered. “Although I am glad that you weren’t actually grappling with a toothsome predator.”
“Romantic? Why would you say that?” Eoin asked as he shot a worried look at Hannah.
“People are claiming that you tackled the beast to save your ladylove. All of us commonfolk are atwitter that a duke risked life and limb to save a coffeehouse proprietress,” Lizzie babbled on, apparently oblivious to her brother’s growing horror.
Hannah didn’t mind the rumors, but she knew Eoin was worried about her nonexistent reputation.
“Has Miss Wick’s name been bandied about?” Eoin asked, his normally even voice tight with concern.
“Yes. Her ownership of the Black Sheep has made the tale even juicier, especially since the establishment was instrumental in bringing down the late Lord Hawley.” Lizzie continued to gush.
“I cannot imagine how the stories will grow when they discover that you’re the son of Championess Quick.
There won’t be enough seats at the amphitheater to hold the crowd! ”
“Darling”—Championess Quick rested her hand on her daughter’s arm—“I believe that your brother is worried about Miss Wick.”
“Oh,” Lizzie said and turned to Hannah. “I apologize if I sounded insensitive. I’ve just never cared what anyone said about me as long as it brought in customers.”
“I am the same way,” Hannah assured her and then turned to Eoin. “And I truly mean that, Eoin. These rumors will only increase the Black Sheep’s revenue. I am not a highborn lady. Being perceived as wild and wanton will only help my business.”
The color, however, did not return to Eoin’s face. “I should never have allowed you to play the role of my mistress to aid in the investigation. I didn’t thoroughly consider the cost to you.”
Hannah strode forward and grabbed both his hands. Méibh immediately flew into an indignant rage, but fortunately, Hannah had plenty of experience with irate birds. “But that is what I am trying to tell you, Eoin. There is only gain for me. I don’t mind the tittle-tattle.”
“But what if you are propositioned or worse because of this?” Eoin squeezed her fingers. “I don’t want you harassed at the Black Sheep.”
“I know how to handle unruly customers,” Hannah promised. “There will always be that sort of man who thinks he can take liberties simply because I work for a living. The gossip doesn’t change that. Aye, the annoying attempts may increase for a time, but offensive demands are nothing new.”
“Then take the protection of the Aucourte name.” Eoin dropped to one knee, his fingers still gripping Hannah’s.
Hannah glanced over at his mother and his sister in panic. Lizzie was barely holding in her laughter while his mother’s expression had once again gone blank. Even worse, Hannah could hear new footsteps pounding up the stairs. In less than a minute, they would find themselves invaded once more.
Hannah frantically glanced back at Eoin.
She understood the reasons behind his sudden action, but no woman wanted to be proposed to in this manner.
Hannah could only feel uncomfortable embarrassment…
and perhaps an underlying confusion as to her own desires.
She yearned for this man on an elemental level, but did she want the life that he offered?
“Eoin, perhaps we should discuss this in priv—”
“Unhand my daughter, you blackguard!” A familiar voice rang through the ancient tower.
Her hands still gripped by Eoin’s, Hannah whirled toward the doorway. Sure enough, her father was wedging himself through the narrow opening.
“Papa!” Hannah cried out, unable to fully grasp what her own eyes were telling her. But even as her mind scrambled to understand, her heart immediately recognized with each frantic thump that the situation was not good. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in the Caribbean!”