To Tame a Highland Earl (22 page)

Eve slapped his hand like a naughty child.
“The crew first, sir.”

He straightened. “That will be a novelty for
them.” His eyes twinkled. “Be quick about it. I cannot resist your
goods for long, madam.”

She looked sharply at him, but it seemed he
referred to the bread and not her goods as she had perceived, for
his eyes were closed as he inhaled another deep breath.

Eve suddenly realized that Oscar couldn’t
have missed her reaction. She turned to the cupboard and withdrew
three bowls, and said, “Have the men come down.”

Lord Rushton shook his head. “I will remain
here and Oscar can deliver the rolls while you prepare a tray for
your sister and Somerset.”

She would much rather get away from his
disturbing presence, something she wouldn’t own up to that for all
the tea in China. Eve buttered rolls, placed them in a large bowl,
and faced Oscar. “When you return, I’ll have Grace and Lord
Somerset’s dinner plates prepared.” He glanced at Lord Rushton, and
she added, “Go along, Oscar, I am quite safe with Lord Rushton
here.”

“
That is likely where you
are least safe,” Oscar said under his breath, and she wanted to box
his ears for being more right than she cared to admit.

“
Move along, or when we
return home I will have my father send you packing,” she told
him.

He grunted. “After this escapade, your father
will send me packing one way or another.” He cast a final warning
glance at the earl, then took the bowl of bread and left.

Eve looked at Lord Rushton. “I had not
thought of that.”

He snatched a hot bun from one of the pans
and began buttering it. “Had not thought of what?”

“
The consequences Oscar
might suffer as a result of—”

Lord Rushton looked up at her, unabashed
amusement in his eyes. “Of you kidnapping me?” He bit into the
roll.

She leaned against the counter. “Yes.”

“
Miss Crenshaw, I must say,
this bread is the finest I have ever eaten.”

“
I’m glad you like it, my
lord. What will Oscar do?”

“
How about some of that
stew?”

Eve frowned. “What?”

“
The stew.” He stuffed more
of the roll into his mouth and reached for one of the bowls sitting
on the counter.

She reached the bowl first and ladled soup
into it. Eve imagined Oscar employed in a household where the
master beat his servants. The first time the man lifted a hand to
Oscar—or anyone else, for that matter—Oscar would lay the man flat
on his backside and end up in Newgate for his trouble.

“
I’ll never forgive
myself.” She handed the full bowl to the earl.

He took a whiff of the rising steam, then
released the breath. “Oscar will be all right.”

“
He has been in our
household since I was a girl. This is all my fault.”

Lord Rushton set the bowl on the table, then
grabbed another roll and buttered it. “There is no denying
that.”

Eve shot him a disgruntled look. “You started
it.”

“
No, madam. Your sister
started it.” Before she could think of a fitting reply, he said,
“Oscar is a fixture in your household, then?”

“
Yes.” Eve couldn’t imagine
her home without him.

Lord Rushton popped the last of the roll into
his mouth as he swung a leg over the bench seat. He sat down and
swung his other leg over the bench. “If your father lets Oscar go,
I will hire him.”

Eve broke from her thoughts. “What?”

He swallowed the stew he’d spooned into his
mouth. “I will employ the brute.”

“
Brute?” she
echoed.

“
He is a very large man and
he did hit me very hard. Brute.”

She wasn’t sure if the satisfaction in his
voice came from his assessment of Oscar or his delight with a
palatable meal.

He took another spoonful of stew and followed
that bite with a large chunk of roll. “This is really quite
marvelous,” he said through the indecent mouthful.

Eve took two steps and plopped down on the
bench beside him, her back to the table so she could see his face.
“Really?”

“
Really what?”

“
Will you hire
Oscar?”

He nodded, eyes on the roll, and
swallowed.

“
My lord!” Eve threw her
arms around him and buried her face in his neck. “Thank you.” She
was instantly enveloped with the smell of soap, sea, and man. Her
cheek warmed with the contact of his skin and she was flooded with
memory of his hand cupping her derriere and grinding her stomach
against his hard length.

Eve released a stuttered breath…then realized
he had gone still.

Her heart thumped madly and she found she
didn’t know what to do. Thankfully—or maybe to her mortification—he
said in a low voice, “Had I known this would be your reaction, I
would have offered Oscar employment days ago.”

Holy God, she had to say something—do
something—but she got another deep whiff of his scent and her mind
muddled.

“
While I would love to take
advantage of this situation,” he said, “I fear the man I am
offering to employ would shoot me if I did. As we have yet to
arrange the generous marriage settlements you assured me I would
give, it might be better if I commit the crime after we are married
rather than before.”

Booted feet sounded in the corridor outside
the galley and Eve jumped back as if bitten. An instant later,
Oscar appeared in the doorway. He halted and looked from her to
Lord Rushton, who was stuffing another large spoonful of stew into
his mouth with the gusto of a starving man. Eve was certain he was
exaggerating his enthusiasm.

“
I hope you had one of
those rolls,” he said to Oscar. “They are the finest in all of
Great Britain.” The earl tore off another bite of roll and nodded
to him.

Eve jumped up. “Let me prepare Grace and Lord
Somerset’s food.”

“
Do not forget Oscar,” Lord
Rushton said.

Eve frowned. “He will eat when he
returns.”

“
He will take his supper in
his hammock, then get some much needed rest. Your protector will do
you no good if he collapses from exhaustion.”

“
I think you are being
melodramatic.”

He shrugged. “Think what you will.”

She hesitated, then realized arguing was
fruitless, and readied a tray. When she turned from the small shelf
after removing two cups, Eve found Oscar still standing inside the
doorway, staring at Lord Rushton. She suddenly realized that Oscar
would join Lord Rushton and Grace’s home, not Eve’s and Lord
Somerset’s. How had she not caught that when Lord Rushton offered
to employ him?

“
You all right,
Miss?”

Eve jarred from her thoughts to see Oscar
staring at her.

“
Oh, yes. I’m fine.” She
handed him the tray.

“
Your dinner is there,”
Lord Rushton told him. “Deliver the food to Somerset and Miss
Crenshaw, then get some rest. After Miss Crenshaw has had her
dinner, I will see her to her cabin and Somerset will keep watch
over them until morning.”

“
I’ll leave the tray and
return,” Oscar said.

“
No need,” Eve said. “I
will be going directly to our cabin after I clean up.”

“
You have nothing to worry
about, Oscar,” Lord Rushton said. “I did not ensure Miss Crenshaw’s
safety thus far only to be the one to undo all the good I have
done. If nothing else, you can rest assured, my father would have
my hide if I did.”

“
If there was any hide
left,” Oscar said, and, thankfully—or perhaps not so thankfully— he
took the tray and left.

Eve found she couldn’t move.

“
Dish up some of your
wonderful stew and sit down with me, Miss Crenshaw.” Lord Rushton
turned slightly and extended his empty bowl toward her. “I’ll have
a bit more, as well.”

She filled his bowl and gave it to him along
with two more rolls, then dished up a small amount of stew and took
a roll for herself.

She sat across from him. “I am sorry,
sir.”

His mouth quirked. “So am I, though doubtless
my regrets are different than yours.”

Her cheeks warmed. “One way or another, I’ll
get you killed.”

“
There are worse ways to
die.”

It took Eve a moment, then she realized his
meaning and rolled her eyes.

“
You cannot blame me,” he
said.

Eve snorted. “Men.”

“
He takes good care of
you.”

Despite the fact she hadn’t forgiven him for
taking Lord Rushton’s side against her, affection warmed her heart.
“He has pulled me from many a scrape.”

“
Is he in love with
you?”

“
In love with me? Good
Lord, no. He would never deign to look in my direction. My father
would never countenance it.”

“
Do you want him to look in
your direction?”

“
My lord! He is like a
brother to me.”

Lord Rushton shrugged. “That doesn’t mean he
considers you a sister.”

She shook her head. “No. It’s in his nature
to protect, but he is not in love with me. In fact, I am certain he
is sweet on our housekeeper’s daughter.” A moment of silence passed
as she took a small spoonful of stew, then she asked, “What did you
tell my father in your communication to him?”

“
I told him Halifax had
kidnapped you and that I’d shot him. He would have found that out
soon enough, and I preferred he heard it from me rather than the
rumor mill. I said your sister was with us, but gave no other
explanation, and added that we were headed for Mull and would
contact him once we arrived safely.”

“
It was good of you not to
mention that Oscar and I kidnapped you.”

“
That was a matter of
expediency,” he replied. “The less said in a letter, the better.
Your father is no fool. I have no doubt he’ll discover the
truth.”

“
Only Grace, Oscar, and I
know.”

“
But your sister left
Manchester with an entourage and went to Gretna Green. Your father
may not guess that Oscar kidnapped me, but he will deduce that his
daughters colluded to get me to Gretna, and Oscar aided
you.”

Eve picked at her food. “Do you think he
would believe I agreed to go with you and planned to trick you into
marrying Grace instead?”

“
Yes.”

He’d answered too quickly, which peeved her.
But he was a man, and all men believed all women would fall prey to
their charms. Though few eligible women of
Society
would
prove Lord Rushton wrong, and too many ineligible women would prove
him right.

“
Still,” Eve said, “I do
not believe my father will believe you went willingly to be
married. It’s hopeless.”

Lord Rushton’s lips twitched in amusement as
he popped the last of the roll into his mouth. “I feel certain he
would, in fact, believe just that.”

She shook her head. “I cannot see why. He
knows you have no plans to actually marry me—or Grace, for that
matter.”

“
On the contrary, he is
certain I will marry you.”

Lord Rushton rose, rooted out two tin cups
from a cupboard, and poured wine. He buttered two more rolls, then
set a cup in front of her and reseated himself.

He took a long swig of his wine. “Drink it.
Wine relieves tension.

Eve took a swallow and grimaced. “What
is
this?”

“
A very bad wine. Finish it
up.” He drank the rest of his.

She eyed the contents, but took another gulp.
“Not as bad the second time around.”

“
It never is.”

“
How do you occupy
yourself, my lord?” Eve bit into her roll. “We see you only in
passing on our walks, and not always then. Surely you aren’t
keeping yourself confined down below as we are?”

“
You are not
down
below
, Miss Crenshaw. The second mate gave up his private cabin
for you.”

Eve nodded. “I knew the cabin belonged to an
officer. You must have paid a pretty penny for this excursion, my
lord.”

He grinned. “The very reason I enjoy full
freedom of the ship—as much as the captain, in fact.”

“
I suppose I should
consider myself fortunate to have been allowed even the privilege
of slaving away in the galley.”

“
You were not pressed into
service.” He ripped his roll apart and ate the piece. “You begged
to be allowed to cook. But had I known what a skilled baker you
are, I would have chained you here and stood guard
myself.”

“
You must have eaten half a
dozen of those rolls,” Eve said. “You’ll make yourself
sick.”

“
It would be worth it. When
did you learn to make these? They really are the best I’ve ever
had.”

“
Our cook is the finest in
Manchester. That is the one area where my father insists upon the
best.”

“
I heartedly agree,” Lord
Rushton said. “She taught you well.”

“
She did, to my mother’s
mortification. When I was eight, I begged Mrs. Larson to teach me.
I have no doubt it began as an indulgence, but by the time I was
twelve, I had mastered hot cross buns and pigeon pie, to name two
of my favorites. At a dinner party my mother hosted she discovered
the bread she served to guests had been prepared by my hand and
nearly had an apoplexy. She threatened poor Mrs. Larson with
unemployment. My father warned me to go into the kitchen only when
my mother was out of the house and demanded Mrs. Larson give the
first of my fruits in payment for his silence.”