murmured to herself as she looked back down at her book. She began to twirl a lock of her hair around her finger. He wondered what it would feel like sliding across his own finger. He shook the thought away. It would get him nowhere. The lady was his brother’s sister-in-law. A part of his brother’s family. Robin would cut off Finn’s stones and feed them to him if he even dared to think lascivious thoughts about her. But it was hard to think anything else.
The quick clip of footsteps in the corridor made Claire’s head tilt to the side as she waited. Finn was somewhat startled when the round face of Mrs. Ross popped around the corner. “Just wanted to come by and be sure you don’t need anything, my lord,” she said as she brushed a hand over her hair to shake away the snowflakes that clung to her graying coiffure. “Did Benny get you settled in properly?”
“Mrs. Ross,” Finn began smoothly. He was actually overjoyed to see her. The house felt a bit like a prison with its quiet corridors and cold kitchen. “How is Mr. Ross? Better, I hope?”
Mrs. Ross shook her head, her lips turning down in a grimace. “No better yet. I fear he has done more damage to his leg than he wants to admit.” She looked at Claire and grinned. “Some men refuse to age gracefully.”
Claire grunted and continued to read.
“Are you here to stay?” Finn asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.
“Unfortunately not. I just came to bring you a warm dinner and be sure you’re all right.” She eyed Claire inquisitively as she held up a basket of food. The smell that emanated from it was enough to make Finn’s mouth water. They’d had a lunch of fruit and cheese. “It’s just some shepherd’s pie and an apple tart for dessert.”
Finn loved shepherd’s pie. His stomach growled loudly. Mrs. Ross’s laugh bounced around the room as she set the basket on a nearby table.
“I left Benny to bring in more wood for the fire. I don’t want the two of you to freeze.” Finn couldn’t help but think he might freeze from the icy glare that emanated from Claire.
“Thank you, Mrs. Ross, for braving the weather,” Claire said suddenly. Her voice was kind and smooth as warm honey on a summer day. Why didn’t she ever talk to him like that?
“You’re quite welcome, miss.” Mrs. Ross nodded her head toward Claire. Claire dipped her head back into her book. “I hate that the two of you will be stuck here for so long.”
“So long?” Claire croaked.
“I’m suspecting it’ll be about a week before the snow clears enough to travel. By tomorrow, we’ll be buried pretty deep.” At least then he wouldn’t have to worry about keeping Claire prisoner by any extraordinary means. The weather would do it for him. Even she wouldn’t be stubborn enough to try to escape in the frightful weather.
Claire looked like she wished with all her heart that she could call out to Mrs. Ross and beg her to take her along with her when she left. But that would do her no good whatsoever. Benny stomped into the corridor and filled the hearth with more wood, causing it to crackle and pop as he tossed on more split logs. “That should hold you for the night.”
“Did you stoke the fire in the bedchamber?” Finn asked.
“Yes, my lord. It should be nice and toasty by the time you’re ready to retire.”
Mrs. Ross looked as though she wanted to scold Finn for his choice in ladies. But she thankfully bit her tongue. The cook-housekeeper would never have to see Claire again. Let her think whatever she wanted. He was a libertine on the best of days. And on his worst.
She patted her son on the shoulder with a look of pride. “I’ll send my Benny over tomorrow with some food.” She clucked her tongue and looked around like she was forgetting something. “Have a good rest, then,” she finally said, and she left without looking either of them in the eye. Benny trotted out behind her.
***
As Lord Phineas peeled back the cloth that covered the shepherd’s pie, his stomach made a loud protest about all the time he was taking to smell the concoction. Claire had to admit that it smelled divine. And she was suddenly as hungry as he was. He cut a small wedge of the pie and placed it on a piece of china that Mrs. Ross had conveniently put in the basket. Then he pulled the rest of the pie over to his side of the table and sat down heavily.
“Wait a minute,” she protested. “That pie is big enough to feed a family of eight. And you gave me one little sliver?”
“A lady who likes to eat?” he drawled, a grin tipping the corners of his lips. “What a novel idea. Most women pick at their food.” He cut a larger piece and put it on her plate.
“Thank you,” she said begrudgingly as she sat down across from him at the small table in the corner of the library. He poured himself more of the amber liquid in his glass and raised it to his lips. He set it down and turned to pick up his napkin, which he’d dropped on the floor. Claire raised his glass to smell it. It smelled fairly harmless. By the way he was acting, she’d have to get him to drink a lot more of it before the night was over if she wanted to slip away. She brought his glass to her lips and took a sip, simply out of curiosity.
The liquor slid in a fiery trail down her throat, numbing her tongue and stealing her breath. Lord Phineas glared at her and took the glass out of her hand. “Do you listen to anything anyone tells you?”
“I asked you very nicely to pour one for me.”
“And I said no.” He spoke around a mouthful of shepherd’s pie. He jabbed his fork toward her plate. “Eat.”
Claire heaved a sigh as she took a bite of the meat and potato pie. It was nearly flavorless after the fiery burn of the liquor. She laid her fork to the side and picked his glass back up. If her dinner was going to be ruined, she might as well enjoy it.
He held out his hand and glared at her the way a governess might glare at a girl taking an extra biscuit from the tray during tea. That was immensely amusing and she laughed out loud. She wasn’t quite certain why it was so hilarious, but it was. She just knew it was by the way she was laughing at herself.
“Give it to me.” He clasped and unclasped his hand in her direction in a grasping motion.
“I bet you say that to all the girls.” The corners of his mouth tipped in a grin.