His eyes roved down her body and then back up. She resented the rush of blood she felt in her cheeks. For once, could she bear his gaze on her without blushing like an unschooled maiden?
Not that she wasn't an unschooled maiden. She'd reached her twenty-third birthday an unschooled maiden, and would likely see her seventy-third the same way. She pursed her lips into a frown.
His eyes lingered on her shoulders. “Aren't wealthy married ladies supposed to… to do something with their hair?”
She'd donned one of her finest dresses, but she hadn't given much thought to her hair, leaving it long and loose instead, as a young maid might. And although she supposed he had a point, she was feeling contentious. “I'm a spinster, Cormac. ” The word spinster spat from her mouth like venom. “I can do what I like with my hair. ” He opened his mouth, then shut it again, the look on his face unreadable. “A spinster, eh?” He shook his head.
Whatever did he mean by the headshake?
She lifted her chin, feeling ready for battle. “What did that mean?”
“What did what mean, Ree?”
She glared, unwilling to let him distract her with that blasted nickname. “The… this” she said, mimicking the slow shaking of his head with wide and impatient eyes.
A smile spread slowly on his face. He scanned his eyes once more along her body.
She thought her heart would hammer out of her chest. Unreadable, unpredictable, unnerving. The man was throwing her off balance.
“Only that I find it amusing. ” He shrugged. “Marjorie Keith, a spinster. ”
“Fine,” she snapped. “I'll pull my hair back. ”
“Not on my account. ”
“Oh no, Cormac,” she said with mock sincerity. “You are absolutely correct. I mustn't forget, I am playing the part of a wealthy lady. I shall immerse myself entirely. ”
He gave her a quick nod. She imagined she saw a flicker of unease on his face, and it gratified her.
“Though, Cormac,” she said sweetly, “I will, of course, need your help. ”
“You need help?”
“Oh yes, I usually have a maid for these things. ” She wandered to the small mirror that hung by the bedside and, gathering her hair at the nape of her neck, studied herself intently. “If we're playing the part of a wealthy couple, and I find myself traveling without my maid, why then, you will need to act the part. ”
“Of your maid?” he said incredulously.
“Well… not that precisely. ” It took effort, but she tossed off her best carefree giggle. “But the part of a dutiful husband, certainly. ”
Dutiful husband. Marjorie couldn't tell if his answering silence was fury or if it might possibly be related to the strange internal quivering she knew she felt at the prospect.
“I've brought my ivory comb for just such a purpose. ” Letting go of her hair, she lowered her arms, and she caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. Though she'd been having a hard time reading him, she thought Cormac's current look was decidedly not fury.
She dug her comb from her satchel and tossed it on the mattress. “I can gather my hair into a knot,” she said, willing her voice to calm. “I'll just need you to tuck it for me. ” Reaching her arms behind her head, she felt her bodice pull tight. And though she studiously avoided looking at him, Marjorie felt Cormac's eyes on her. Her heart pounded mercilessly. “The angle is too awkward for me, you see. ” Fighting to master her suddenly inept fingers, she smoothed her hair, winding it into a bun at the base of her neck. She swallowed hard. “Now if you'll be so kind… “ She nodded to the ivory comb on the bed.
He picked it up, and all she registered was his large, strong hand on the mattress where she'd been sleeping just hours before. Marjorie blinked hard. Why had she put the comb on the bed?
She curled her fingers tighdy into her bun. She'd remain composed. She wouldn't let him see her fingers tremble.
“All you need to—”
“So how do I—”
They each spoke over the other. She laughed nervously, but Cormac remained as stoic as ever.
“Simply make sure the hair is smooth,” she said, sweeping her hand up from the bottom of the bun.
He reached out with the comb, and their hands brushed. His was warm, and she pictured the broad strength of it.