cat,’ Sissy said. She ducked under the table and pulled out the kitten. ‘See, she has little white boots.’ She pointed to the cat’s tiny white feet and legs.
‘So she does,’ he said. He pulled out his watch, a plain silver thing. Nothing like the glittering piece she’d stolen. ‘You will forgive me,’ he said. ‘I have another engagement this afternoon.’
And here he was listening to a child’s artless chatter. Eleanor tried not to let the chagrin show on her face. ‘Please, do not let us keep you. Thank you for allowing me to pay my debt in some small measure.’
He shook his head. ‘The pleasure is mine, I assure you.’
And she believed him. Despite their apparently different stations, he showed not a smidgen of condescension. Why could she not have met him in her old life?
Oh, Lord, what was she thinking? This man had ruined her life. But somehow she no longer felt any hatred. After all, he’d saved them from a fiery fate. Her change of heart had absolutely nothing to do with all those other hot sensations. Or his kisses.
He shrugged himself into his jacket and picked up the hat and cane he had dropped on his way in. ‘I will certainly tell Mrs Briddle that Boxted village boasts one of the finest bakers in all of Sussex. I am sure you will hear from her very soon. Good day, Miss Brown, Miss Sissy.’ He bowed and, with a touch of the head of his cane to his forehead, departed.
Eleanor, with Sissy at her side, watched him stroll down the path from the doorway. He paused briefly on the wormy plank across the stream, looking down into the water for a moment, before mounting his horse.
‘Eleanor, that’s it,’ Sissy said. ‘You can bake cakes for Beauworth Court and we will be rich again.’
The hope in Sissy’s voice brought Eleanor down to earth with a painful jolt. If she didn’t find a way out of this morass soon, things were going to get a great deal worse. ‘He’s a dangerous man.’
‘I liked him,’ Sissy said. ‘He has nice brown eyes.’
‘You only like brown eyes because you have them, too.’
Sissy laughed. ‘Well, he likes you. He looked like he wanted to eat you instead of the cakes.’
Eleanor put a hand to her lips as she recalled the way she had melted at the brush of his mouth. The man was a practised seducer. How many other young women had he brought to ruin?
Not to mention that if he hadn’t called in the mortgage, they would not be in such desperate straits. Perhaps Martin’s ransom idea had merit after all.
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