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Ford.She glanced up and then quickly back down again. Sunlight kissed the angular contours of his face. The smile teasing his lips demolished her resolutions to remain impassive and industrious.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked.
“Proving you wrong.”
“About what?”
“I’ve received definitive confirmation that I own the property and will be able to sign it over to the league of lady knitters. Therefore, it’s of the utmost paramountcy that we finish repairing the property swiftly so that Foxton can’t claim it’s in a state of hazardous dereliction. You said you wouldn’t require my help, but since we can’t hire another carpenter as your assistant, I believe I may be of use. I understand the basic principles of floor joists and floorboards.” She frowned at the board she’d been attempting to remove. “At least I thought I did.”
“What in the name of God are you wearing?”
She smoothed her palm over the front of the shirt. “My brother Rafe’s clothing. He’s not in London so he won’t miss it.”
His gaze raked the length of her body leaving her feeling exposed, and uncharacteristically feminine. If he was going to stare at her so boldly, she’d take an inventory of her own.
He looked delicious enough to spoon into her coffee. Dark hair tousled, loose white shirt open at the neck, sunlight softening the hard angles of him, the stern set of his lips and the sturdy plane of his shoulders.
“You look good in trousers,” he said.
The compliment startled her. She’d expected him to order her to change back into her feminine frills and march upstairs to the reading room where she belonged.
She wiped a damp palm on the sturdy fabric of the trousers. “My friend India, the Duchess of Ravenwood, wears trousers when she goes on archaeological digs. And when she infiltrates all-male societies. I find I quite like the freedom they afford. I may never wear a gown again.”
“I liked the gown you were wearing at the opera.” His eyes did that smoldering thing where the blue warmed up and his lids closed halfway.
She’d been determined not to bring up the subject of what happened at the opera. It seemed best to pretend it hadn’t happened. But if he were going to be cavalier about it, she’d answer in kind. “I recall you rather liked sliding it down my shoulders.”
She tried to imitate his smoldering look, but feared she probably looked as though she were trying to blink a speck of dust out of her eye.
He folded his arms over his chest and the motion brought his muscles into swelling prominence.“Shall we talk about what happened at the opera? I went there to warn you . . . and we ended up . . .”
She swallowed. She was still on her knees, and he was standing over her like temptation incarnate. “Kissing again. I was there. But you must know that opera has that effect on people. The music is so transporting that it has a tendency to provoke people to fits of passion.”
“It was the opera, was it?”
“Quite.” Prim, proper, and purposeful. “I’m not here for conversation, Ford. I’m here for woodworking.” She held up the carpentry book like a shield against all of that virility. “I have a book.Practical Carpentryby Mr. Peter Nicholson.”
“Very well.” He dropped to a squat beside her. “What has Mr. Nicholson taught you about removing damaged floorboards?”
“There are several figures and diagrams and an explanation of the system of floor joists. It says that these large strong timbers I’ve uncovered are called girders and—”
“Put the book down, Beatrice.”
“Pardon?”
“I know this will be difficult for you, but you can’t remove floorboards while holding a book. Put down the book.”
She lowered the book.
“Not everything in life revolves around books. Some things must be learned through practical application.”
“I’m willing to learn.”
“First of all, you don’t have the right tool for the job. You can’t use a hammer alone. You needa crowbar.” He searched the bucket of tools and lifted a long flat metal tool with a curved fork at one end. “This is designed to use for leverage. You insert it under the board and lift enough to maneuver the hammer in, like so. See, the nail is standing proud now, and you can easily remove it with the claw end of your claw hammer.”
He demonstrated the motion and the nail popped free.
“Oh, so that’s how it’s done. May I try?”
