Chapter 4 #3
“No need, lass. Family first. Do ye need me to accompany ye?” Quinn glanced at the shopkeeper, sure she’d be glad to keep an eye on his sister for a bit while he walked her wherever she needed to go.
“No, that’s quite all right, I thank you, sir.
William can walk with me. It’s just around the corner.
Belmary House.” She glanced around. “Catie, Miss Juliet will help you choose. Her taste is impeccable. I’d only agree with anything she said if I stayed.
Will you be all right? I’ll return as soon as I may. ”
“Go, Miss Burnet,” Catie cried. “Dinna tarry another moment. Quinn is with me. I shall be fine. If we finish before ye return, shall we fetch ye?”
Quinn looked over at Catie, surprised at how capable she sounded, how grown up. He hadn’t even considered meeting Lizzie at Belmary House, whatever that was. He supposed any house that had a name would be known by any carriage driver in the city, though.
“Aye, that is what we shall do,” Quinn said.
With a worried smile, Lizzie left with the footman. The dressmaker tutted, but got back to business as soon as the door closed behind them. She laid out an assortment of buttons, then told Catie she’d be back with a book of designs and fabric swatches.
He watched her turn over the buttons, trying not to dwell on how well she was already fitting in with this new life.
He didn’t want to admit to himself that he’d hoped she would throw the world’s worst tantrum, be shunned by her English relations and be forced back to Scotland a disgrace.
They could say they tried, she could marry a Scot, and still hopefully get her fortune.
Actually, the fortune could bugger itself.
They’d lived long enough without it. He didn’t care.
With a start he thought maybe Catie cared, though.
He didn’t want to ruin things for her. Had he been trying to ruin things for her when he let loose with his evil tongue?
No, he’d just been riled by that street urchin kicking him.
“Sorry I’ve already lost the bet,” he said, standing beside her and nudging a pearl button with his fingertip.
She glanced up at him. “Ye are who ye are,” she said with a shrug. “And I dinna think Miss Burnet was too scandalized. Quinn, she’s nothing like what I imagined.”
“Ye like her well enough, then?”
“I like her verra much,” Catie said.
“Of course, as she agrees with ye.”
She sorted the buttons by order of size, placing a large silver one in front of a smaller, but equally shiny copper one. “Maybe so, but it’s more than that. She isna like anyone I’ve ever known, and I dinna think it is just her being English.”
“How’s that?” he asked, shocked because he’d also thought Miss Burnet was different.
“Well, she’s so straightforward.” Catie shrugged. “It’s difficult to say for sure. Confident, I suppose. I’d like to be more like her.”
“Be yourself, lass. Ye’re perfect the way ye are,” he said, almost by rote.
He was lost in thoughts of Lizzie as he realized who she reminded him of, and his stomach plummeted. She made him think of Piper Sinclair, the witch who’d stolen their brother Lachlan away to another century.
It wasn’t her looks, the two couldn’t have looked any more different.
Piper was wee like a wood sprite, dark-haired and pale, and Miss Burnet— Lizzie, was golden haired and rosy cheeked, medium height and ample in the places he liked a woman to be ample.
If he had to compare her to an otherworldly creature, Lizzie would be an angel.
He shook his head, embarrassed at the addlepated direction his mind had wandered. He had to uncurl his fingers from wanting to wrap them in her luxurious hair while he kissed her cherubic, glossy lips.
No, it wasn’t their looks that made him compare the two women.
It was more their demeanor, and the way they carried themselves.
It was their bold, direct looks. Their straightforward way of speaking.
Confident to the point of fearless. Hadn’t she winked at him?
No lass he knew short of a brazen barmaid who wanted to share his bed would do such a thing.
This new line of thinking threw him off course of his budding theory even more than her beautiful face did.
Could his sister’s chaperone want to sleep with him?
His whole body tensed up at the thought.
He certainly would not mind obliging her if that was the case.
Preposterous. The wink hadn’t meant that.
It was just part of her very open personality.
She acted like someone from a freer, more unconventional time, just as Piper did.
Catie shook his arm and he saw that the dressmaker had come back with the patterns. He returned to his spot in the corner to mull over his idea. It was daft. There was no possible way. He could never be so accursed as to run afoul of two women from the future.
Still, the idea had taken root and he was going to keep an eye on her. Even if it only turned out she was interested in a dalliance with him. He smiled. Especially that.