As the boy nodded wordlessly, the girl whispered, “Our big sister takes care of us at the refuge.”
Well, at least she wouldn’t have to figure out how to get a roof over their heads. Tiffany winced. It wasn’t ideal, but she couldn’t saveeveryone. Still, she tugged her reticule open as she stood. “You are to use this money forfood, do you understand? For you and your sister and brother.”
“Tiffany.” Lunzie had moved up behind her; she could feel his warmth at her back.
But the little girl was staring up at her as if she were an angel, and Tiffany sighed. Logically, she knew this was foolish, and that the children could take the money and waste it. But how could shenotrisk helping them?
Resolved, she placed coins in the girl’s hand. The small fingers curled around them.
“Thank you, milady.”
Tiffany smiled wearily. “Just Tiffany,” she whispered, then turned away, not wanting to see if the children would betray her trust by rushing to spend her limited coins on frivolities.
But she walked right into Lunzie’s chest. He grabbed her upper arms to steady her, but instead of escorting her again, he stared down at her, his expression unreadable.
“Lunzie?” she whispered, not at all teasingly.
“Ye’re verra…”
When he trailed off, she nodded in understanding. “Beautiful, aye.”
“Nay.” He winced. “I mean, aye, of course ye’re beautiful, and ye ken it, but…”
When his voice dropped, and he leaned even closer, Tiffany felt her heart beating double time. His lips were inches from hers, and his scent tickled her nose in the most intriguing way.
“Yes?” she whispered, breathlessly.
When he swallowed, she watched his throat and realized she’d never before looked at a man’s throat the way she looked at his. Never before looked at amanthe way she looked at him. Had Lysander’s throat been quite so intriguing, buttoned up behind those proper neckties? And why was she comparing Lysander to the man who currently held her?
Because Lysander was the man you were supposed to marry, but the more you know Lunzie, the more you question what you want.
Last night, he’d given her what she’d wanted, what she’dneeded. And he’d protected her.
Lunzie’s hand rose, his fingertips brushing her cheek, as he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, right there in the streets of York. “Ye, Tiffany, are no’ just beautiful. I ken ye think that is where yer worth lies, but ye have much more worth than that. Ye’re strong and capable, and surprisingly kind.”
Her gaze darted back to his eye. “Why is that surprising?”
He shrugged. “A woman as beautiful as ye, also being kind? No’ justkind, but caring and open-hearted, and looking for ways to help others…”
Her lips, which had been parted in anticipation, began to draw into a frown as she settled back on her heels. “I am trying not to be offended by that, Lunzie.”
Behind his bushy beard, his grin flashed once. “Good. Because it’s me admitting I was wrong about ye.” His gaze turned speculative as it roamed over her face. “I find, to my surprise, I want to kiss ye more than I’ve ever wanted to kiss a woman before.”
Oh.
Last night, he’d kissed her throat. What would it be like, to kiss his lips, hidden by that beard? Tiffany found herself swaying toward him again as she whispered, “I would like…”
She wasn’t certainwhatshe’d like, but knew it involvedhim.
So when he stepped backward, nodding firmly, she felt a loss she couldn’t even explain.
“I bargained for a kiss once I’ve helped ye on yer mission, so I’d best ensure this task is completed soon!” Before she could do more than blink in confusion, he’d grabbed her arm and slid it into his. “The Curios Cabinetis just ahead. And stop calling meLunzie.”
Tiffany struggled to gain control of her thoughts, herbody. This man could alter her verybreathing. “Laird Gaberlunzie, I think?—"
“Why do ye want that manuscript anyhow?” His tone made it sound as if he was scowling, but it was impossible to tell. “It seems a bit risqué for a lady in yer situation.”
The blush worked its way up her throat to her cheeks. “Itisrisqué. I had no ideaA Harlot’s Guide to the Whatever-whatever?—”
