An Arrangement of Sorts Read Free

bit. Pacing was hardly ladylike, but considering the show she had just put on for that table of rather ordinary looking men, she doubted anybody would consider her ladylike anymore anyway. Not that she cared all that much, she didn’t know them enough to care, but she did want to be respected.
    The crazed woman that had just marched into a pub and told an entire table of men what she was going to do, what Mr. Hammond would be expected to do, and then marched back out again without breaking composure was surely deserving of a little respect. But as for little Moira Dennison… she just wanted to curl up under some wagon and cry until her body no longer shook with fear.
    Three days. It had been three days since she had left Gillam, and she was no closer to figuring out what she was going to do than she had been weeks ago. Being from a small village had its advantages she was sure, but at the moment she knew of none. The pitying looks she received when people thought she wasn’t looking, the way a room would quiet when she entered, the soft snickers of other girls when she went for a letter and returned empty handed… She had had quite enough.
    What drove her to bits was that if these people had known just who she was, not who they thought she was, but who the rest of the world would see her as, they would not have pitied, gossiped, or snickered. She was wealthy enough to buy up the whole village, force them all out, and fill all of their homes with sheep, should she have had the desire. Or goats. Goats were notoriously meaner and would be better than sheep at keeping unwanted people from her property.
    But sadly, she had no goats or sheep. All she had was money, and she had no idea what to do with it. It had not been a part of her life since she was very young, and she had not been informed of it until much later in her life, under sworn secrecy. Not even her aunt had been aware of the magnitude of Moira’s inheritance, only that there was one.
    Her biggest regret had been that Charles hadn’t known. Perhaps if he had known what would have been theirs, he wouldn’t have…
    “Miss Dennison?”
    Moira shook herself out of her melancholy reverie as soon as she heard her named called. That would be Mr. Hammond, no doubt coming to his senses and telling her to shove off and find someone else to bother about her love. Even so, she fixed her most determined, unflinching expression on her face, brushed the stray hairs away from her face, and turned to face the approaching footsteps with her hands on her hips.
    He was much taller than she expected him to be, and rather imposing when headed in someone’s direction. She could see now what her source had been going on about. No one seeing this man would have doubted his authority or his power. Any man who wished to stand against him would be a fool three ways from Sunday , a nd would lose unquestionably.
    It was a pity he would turn her down.
    She swallowed and looked up at him. “Mr. Hammond?”
    His dark eyes were unreadable as he stopped before her. “I apologize for not answering you promptly in there just now. I’m afraid you took me by surprise.”
    She smiled without humor. “Yes, well, I fear I have that effect on people. At least, that is what I have been told. It’s a terrible flaw.”
    Now he returned her smile, but his was one of genuine warmth, and suddenly her chest did not feel quite so tight. “Not necessarily, Miss Dennison. I am not one to mind surprises, as a general rule. But I daresay we shall find real flaws in each other soon enough.”
    “I should hope not,” she said before she could stop herself. “I would rather keep my flaws to mys … ” She stopped short as she realized what he said, and she tilted her head as her eyes widened. “We? So you are coming, then?”
    He nodded, his eyes still on her and still mysterious. “Yes, Miss Dennison. I accept your offer.” His smile turned wry. “And now I anticipate your next command.”
    Moira