Page 73 of Wicked Highland Heroes

“Will you hire Oscar?”

He nodded, eyes on the roll, and swallowed.

“My lord!” Eve threw her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. “Thank you.” She was instantly enveloped with the smell of soap, sea, and man. Her cheek warmed with the contact of his skin and she was flooded with memory of his hand cupping her derriere and grinding her stomach against his hard length.

Eve released a stuttered breath…then realized he had gone still.

Her heart thumped madly and she found she didn’t know what to do. Thankfully—or maybe to her mortification—he said in a low voice, “Had I known this would be your reaction, I would have offered Oscar employment days ago.”

Holy God, she had to say something—do something—but she got another deep whiff of his scent and her mind muddled.

“While I would love to take advantage of this situation,” he said, “I fear the man I am offering to employ would shoot me if I did. As we have yet to arrange the generous marriage settlements you assured me I would give, it might be better if I commit the crime after we are married rather than before.”

Booted feet sounded in the corridor outside the galley and Eve jumped back as if bitten. An instant later, Oscar appeared in the doorway. He halted and looked from her to Lord Rushton, who was stuffing another large spoonful of stew into his mouth with the gusto of a starving man. Eve was certain he was exaggerating his enthusiasm.

“I hope you had one of those rolls,” he said to Oscar. “They are the finest in all of Great Britain.” The earl tore off another bite of roll and nodded to him.

Eve jumped up. “Let me prepare Grace and Lord Somerset’s food.”

“Do not forget Oscar,” Lord Rushton said.

Eve frowned. “He will eat when he returns.”

“He will take his supper in his hammock, then get some much needed rest. Your protector will do you no good if he collapses from exhaustion.”

“I think you are being melodramatic.”

He shrugged. “Think what you will.”

She hesitated, then realized arguing was fruitless, and readied a tray. When she turned from the small shelf after removing two cups, Eve found Oscar still standing inside the doorway, staring at Lord Rushton. She suddenly realized that Oscar would join Lord Rushton and Grace’s home, not Eve’s and Lord Somerset’s. How had she not caught that when Lord Rushton offered to employ him?

“You all right, Miss?”

Eve jarred from her thoughts to see Oscar staring at her.

“Oh, yes. I’m fine.” She handed him the tray.

“Your dinner is there,” Lord Rushton told him. “Deliver the food to Somerset and Miss Crenshaw, then get some rest. After Miss Crenshaw has had her dinner, I will see her to her cabin and Somerset will keep watch over them until morning.”

“I’ll leave the tray and return,” Oscar said.

“No need,” Eve said. “I will be going directly to our cabin after I clean up.”

“You have nothing to worry about, Oscar,” Lord Rushton said. “I did not ensure Miss Crenshaw’s safety thus far only to be the one to undo all the good I have done. If nothing else, you can rest assured, my father would have my hide if I did.”

“If there was any hide left,” Oscar said, and, thankfully—or perhaps not so thankfully— he took the tray and left.

Eve found she couldn’t move.

“Dish up some of your wonderful stew and sit down with me, Miss Crenshaw.” Lord Rushton turned slightly and extended his empty bowl toward her. “I’ll have a bit more, as well.”

She filled his bowl and gave it to him along with two more rolls, then dished up a small amount of stew and took a roll for herself.

She sat across from him. “I am sorry, sir.”

His mouth quirked. “So am I, though doubtless my regrets are different than yours.”

Her cheeks warmed. “One way or another, I’ll get you killed.”