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“We are blocking the doorway to a brothel, so his conclusion is hardly a stretch. Come over here out of the way where I can explain without shouting it out to the rooftops or being accosted by drunkards.” She reached for his hand to drag him away, startled by the shot of heat as their skin briefly connected. She snatched her hand back and hurried a few paces down the street to the shadow of an overhanging dwelling.
“If you must know, I am on an errand for my grandmother. The ladies of this establishment have need of remedies for certain women’s ailments which may result from what might be described as overuse. My grandmother supplies the remedies, but she does not come herself because she would be recognized as a midwife, which apparently is bad for business, given the nature of the business they conduct.”
“So you are sent instead?” His brow puckered into a frown. “I cannot say I approve. Your friend is right. There are many unsavory characters around here.”
Any fear she had of discovery was now replaced by mounting irritation. “I believe my friend was referring to you when she warned me about unsavory characters. I might well ask what you were doing lurking around a notorious establishment.”
“Same as you. I was there on business.”
“Business?” She crossed her arms and skewered him with a skeptical stare. “How original. No doubt most men say they are attending ‘business’ after a visit upstairs.”
“I do not have to defend myself or explain my actions to you.”
“Ah, a guilty conscience. I was happy to explain myself to you, and yet you will not do me a similar courtesy.”
“I will not because I cannot. I am not at liberty to disclose the nature of my business. However I shall do you the courtesy of escorting you home. As you have witnessed for yourself there are many louts and knavish characters about.”
An escort home was the last thing she wanted. Too many questions would be asked. McCrae was a man-size burr stuck in her stocking, a constant irritant she couldn’t dislodge. She must take a deep breath before she said anything. His uncle was a rich and powerful man and if he was on his uncle’s business, it would not do well to pry. All this flashed through her mind as she held his gaze and fought to quell her natural instincts to speak her mind. Much as it chafed to do so, playing the flirt was the best way to proceed, so Lucinda fluttered her eyelashes and petted down her hair, the way that Annie might do.
“Thank you, kind sir, but I would not wish to divert you from the important business that you are not at liberty to discuss. It is most kind of you to offer, but I am sure I can look after myself and will not require your company or protection.”
His already broad chest puffed out like a ruffled peacock. “In my experience all women need protection. I would be remiss if I did not accompany you home.” He held out his hand to take her basket, a gesture she pointedly ignored.
“In my experience women are quite capable of looking after themselves, so I believe our business here is done.” Lucinda brushed her hands as if wiping herself free of him before stepping past McCrae with a barely concealed smile. It was far from wise to goad him, but something about the man always pushed her into reckless declarations. Once he recovered from the shock of her refusal he hurried after her.
“May I remind you, Mistress Evans, that a sharp tongue is not an adequate weapon?”
“Would a sword persuade you better? Who knows what lies beneath my skirts?”
“Don’t tempt me to part them and find out.”
“Why,” she spluttered, “that is an outrageous thing to say.”
“No more outrageous than suggesting you have a sword concealed about your person.” Unfortunately he was right about that and kept grinding the point home. Only men who possessed a coat of arms were legally entitled to carry a sword abroad.
“Oh I am aware of the rules all right. Rules about this. Rules about that. Awareness does not stop me from ignoring them should the need arise.” She was hurrying as fast as she could, but his long stride made it easier for him to keep up with her than for her to get ahead while clutching the swords beneath her skirts so they did not clang. She took a sharp turn left darting into a narrow alleyway, a shortcut she knew to the riverbank. The over-hanging upper storeys almost touched, and there was barely enough room for two people to pass.
“This is exactly the sort of thing a woman should not do. Veer off the street down a dark and narrow alleyway. You are a most foolish and exasperating woman.”
“So I have been told.”
“What if someone came up behind you and grabbed you like this?” For one brief, terrifying moment Lucinda froze, the thought crossing her mind that the man intended to either strangle her or ravage her. In reality he simply could not bear to be bested by a woman. She’d show him.
“Then I would do this!” She swung her basket toward his groin noting the satisfying “oof” of pain as the wickerwork connected. “Then this!” She pulled down on his arm, bent her knees, ducked under his armpit, and, as she turned, twisted his arm up behind his back, forcing him to his knees.
“You have made your point,” he said wincing. She took this as a token of surrender and released his arm. “What was that noise?”
“I did not hear any noise.”
“That clang as you dipped under my arm?”
“I did not notice a clang.” While her face declared innocence, she struggled against an overwhelming urge to reach down and check the position of her swords. She must not touch. Must not, must not touch, lest she give herself away. Her inner battle resulted in a series of facial contortions. Fortunately McCrae was preoccupied with assessing the state of the insult to his groin. Slowly he straightened his hips and spine, tentatively cranking himself upright.
“You are fortunate I did not hit you harder,” Lucinda taunted.
“You are fortunate I did not use my sword,” he growled back.
“I think it will be a while before you use your sword to any great effect,” she said glancing pointedly at the affected region.
