Chapter Three
Jocelyn was lying.
If those bruises were the result of running into a door, then Gunn was king. He was a boxer. He kenned what bruises caused by angry fists looked like.
For her to get those bruises as bad as they were, she would have had to run into the door repeatedly. There wasn’t just one bruise. There were multiple. Almost healed, so some time had passed since the initial beating.
And a beating is exactly what had happened. He’d bet his title on it.
But it appeared the lass didn’t want to tell him of the specifics, so he’d let it go.
For now.
“Well, it appears that door held some anger toward ye.” He smiled, trying to lighten the mood.
Her soft laugh filled his study, cutting through the tension.
“What is it ye wanted to speak to me about?” he asked, figuring it was better to steer conversation away from what she was uncomfortable speaking about.
“Ah, yes.” She straightened in the chair, her tone growing serious. “I would like to settle in Kincardine and wanted to inquire if you had any open positions.”
Gunn blew out an exasperated breath, pushing his hand through his hair. Out of all the questions that he thought wouldpop out of her mouth, that wasn’t one of them. It was apparent that she needed money, but he was on the verge of losing his inn and pub. He’d already let staff go. He certainly didn’t have the resources to hire someone new.
The pleading in her eyes nearly broke him.
“Why Kincardine?”
“Pardon?” She seemed surprised at his question.
“Kincardine. Why here? ’Tis no’ like we are a common stop on the way to other cities. We’re just a small town.”
Jocelyn worried her bottom lip so hard that Gunn was sure it would bleed at any moment.
He also found himself thinking how much he wanted nibble on it.
“It’s a lovely town,” she finally said, but offered naught further.
“’Tis,” he agreed, nodding. There was no doubt about that. Just inland a ways from the east coast, the sea was close enough that if the wind blew just right, one could smell the brine in the air. “But ye still didna answer my question, lass.”
Her eyes darted around the room, though what she was searching for, he hadn’t any clue. “I didn’t have aught to keep me in England any longer. I’ve always heard about the rugged beauty of Scotland, and I decided to see for myself.” She sighed, jutting her chin out. “The rumors were true, by the way,” she added, leaning toward him with a smile.
She was trying to win him over.
It might be working.
“What skills do ye have?” The question was out of his mouth before he could stop it. He closed his eyes, pressing his lips into a thin line. Christ. What was he doing?
Her whole demeanor brightened at his question.
“Well, until I tasted your cook’s divine meals, I thought I could cook fairly well.” She chuckled. “So, I will not be offeringmy cooking skills to you. However, I can clean, though you have Flora, and she appears to be more than capable. Maybe I can assist her. But I can also bookkeep.”
He raised an eyebrow at that last part. “You bookkeep? As in accounts? Ledgers?”
She nodded. “Yes. It’s a skill taught to me by father.”
“Your father?”
“Yes. Lord Bixby. Oh.” She clamped her hand over her mouth, and he got the feeling she had said more than she intended.
