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He pressed his lips together and dropped his chin to his chest.
“That could work,” I mused, tapping my nails against the laptop. “Of course, the hero is the duke, but that could make the resolution easier. Was Morag ever all right with the marriage?”
Esme paused. “I don’t know, you know. I never asked her. Honestly, both of them are quite traditional, and I’m not sure she ever would speak against Angus. Especially not when Stuart and Katie got married thirty-nine years ago. The world was a very different place then, especially for the aristocracy. We can be quite behind the times.”
“That helps, actually. Thank you. I think you might have just solved my plot hole.” I smiled at her.
She clapped her hands against her thighs and stood up. “Then I shall look for my name in the acknowledgements.”
Max pinched the bridge of his nose, and Esme left the library in a swish of her green floral skirt and a cloud of airy perfume that made me want to sneeze.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Max said, standing up, too. “Let you get that down on paper.”
“Actually, I think I’m going to let it simmer for a while. It’s not quite clicked into place yet.” I hit ctrl-S to save the document even though it automatically saved every three seconds.
“Well, I’m going to clean the goats out. Do you want to come with me?”
“To clean the goats? It’s not the best offer I’ve ever had.”
“To see your cat,” he replied wryly, fighting back a smile. “No doubt he’s on top of the hay bales, sleeping.”
“Oh, that’s a much better idea. As long as you don’t rope me into cleaning up goat poop.”
He shook his head. “I would never.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
ELLIE
Liar, Liar, Panties on Fireeee
“Icannot believe you’ve roped me into cleaning up goat poop.”
“You offered!”
“Bloody hardly,” I retorted with a snort of derision. “At no point did I ever say the words, ‘Hey, Max, would you like some help scooping up those piles of shit?’”
He stabbed the fork into a load of hay and rested his elbow on top of the handle, looking over at me. “Ellie.”
“I also don’t understand why you took a shower right before you decided to get knee-deep in shitty goat bedding, but that’s none of my business.” I hauled a load of dirty hay from the bedding area to the trailer by the door. It was absolute hell doing this, and it was giving me an idea for my next book.
A city girl dumped on a farm who has to help out.
Not that I was a city girl. I was a country girl at heart, but not all country girls wanted to haul goat shit around.
It was me.
I didn’t want to haul goat shit around.
“Why don’t you sit down and let me do it?” Max asked, smirking. “There’s not that much left to do.”
“No. I’m not a quitter. I don’t give up.”
“You were going to quit writing earlier.”
“I quit writing twenty times a day.Minimum. It means nothing.” I glared over at him. “Stop standing there staring at me.”
“I like the view.”
