Page 10 of Bargaining with the Devil

“I shall. And I suppose I’ll even let you back in when you return.” She smiled at him, a genuine smile, however brief.

If she was beautiful like frost, well, the bitter chill of ice sometimes melts away when kissed by the sun.

“I’ll not be asking to share your bed,” Mr. Quinn said upon his return from the Arms. His mouth curved. Mocking? Self-deprecating? Teasing? One could not quite tell with him. “But I’d accept a blanket, if you have an extra. I’ve made do with far less on many occasions, ’tis true, but I don’t go out of my way to sleep rough.”

“I imagine you did when you were with the Rifles? Nathaniel has spoken of it on occasion.” She hadn’t meant for it to come out as a question, but it had. She did not want to be curious about this man. She did not, in point of fact, want to feel anything at all about him.

Too late though; he was answering her. “Aye. We were usually on rear- or vanguard without much by way of comfort in bivouac. Just a blanket or coat against the elements, usually. I can’t say matters have improved comfort-wise a great deal in the six-and-a-half years since I left the Rifles. But at least ’tis easier finding buildings with their roofs intact.”

She fetched him an extra blanket from her chamber and placed it, folded, beside his belongings. “I can’t imagine it, really.” The closest she’d come was the ship to Boulogne, but even on that she’d had a cot.

She did not want to think about that. She hurriedly pushed the thought away.

She also didn’t want to engage with Mr. Quinn—or fine, just Quinn, as he insisted. So naturally her mouth chose this of all times to act independently of her mind. “Why do you not sleep in beds?”

She wished she could recall the question, and she half expected a smirk at her curiosity.

But he only tilted his head a little, hair falling across his brow. He wore it shorter than current fashion dictated, but that fit, somehow. He didn’t strike her as a man overly concerned with the opinions of others.

“Too much bother, for one, at least when I’m working alone. ’Tis time and money better spent elsewhere. Too much risk of being noticed too. Or remembered later, if questions get asked.”

Questions after he’d killed someone?

“I don’t mind it overmuch,” he added. “Can’t really miss what you aren’t accustomed to, to my mind. Not that I turn down some of the offers I get on occasion to share a bed.”

Did he think to shock her by mentioning bedsport? It wouldn’t work. Not on her. “After all, why cut off your nose to spite your face?” she said facetiously.

“Doesn’t involve my nose. Not usually, anyway.” And there was the smirk.

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask what he even meant by such a ridiculous remark, but she caught herself just in time. No doubt he wanted her to ask.

He seemed to derive some sort of amusement from needling her. Or not needling, exactly. It wasn’t malicious. She’d credit him that, galling as it was to find the grace to admit it even just to herself.

“But returning to what I said earlier.” His face lost its teasing edge. “I’m not asking to share your bed. And I’ll stay out of your way as best I can, but we’ll be cheek by jowl for a time, at minimum until Blackmore and your sister are back.”

She didn’t want Quinn underfoot. Not in her space physically, not consuming her attention with questions and challenges and musings. She didn’t like anyone in her space for long, even Isobel and Nathaniel, but compared to them, Quinn was positively outsized. He was anything but restful with her nerves already stretched thin by memories of Compton and fresh anxiety that Compton had a half brother who wished her ill.

Not a lucky start to the new year after all, despite Quinn with his dark hair having crossed her threshold first.

Chapter 5

“Ibelieve the drizzle has let up,” Lucy remarked. “If you insist upon being here, you may as well make yourself useful.”

“Doing what?” he asked cautiously. He couldn’t figure what tasks she might have for him to do. ’Twasn’t like there was a great deal to her cottage, and she kept it tidy.

Her lips curved, perhaps from having picked up on his perplexity. “Isobel has amassed a bit of a menagerie over the past two years. I would not have guessed it of my sister when we were younger, but she has become thoroughly domestic. Nathaniel as well.” This time Lucy’s smile was most definitely reserved for Mrs. Blackmore, because it certainly wasn’t for himself she’d be wearing such a fond look.

Certainly he’d not have guessed it of Blackmore. Didn’t know Mrs. Blackmore enough to say.

“It’s partially a means of providing for our own needs,” Lucy continued. “We’ve chickens, a small flock. Several goats. A pony, although he is currently being cared for at the Arms waiting ready to convey my sister’s family upon their return from Glasgow. Issy would like a cow at some point, but we’ve not managed that just yet. We have a handful of sheep for fiber, although they are largely self-sufficient. Altogether it provides us with food and income to supplement what Nathaniel brings in when he helps work the stake nets and oyster beds.”

’Twas quite a run of speech for her compared to their sparse conversation up to this point. Also the most she’d relaxed towards him to date. And not a bit hostile—friendly, almost. Mayhap they’d muddle through one another’s company after all without sniping regular. “Can’t say that tending animals has ever been one of my jobs. ’Tisn’t a skill I’ve acquired.”

She raised one delicate eyebrow. “I wouldn’t say much skill is involved in the day-to-day care, per se, but certainly there is quite a bit of hard work at times. At the moment, with Isobel gone, everything falls to me. I don’t mind it alone but would welcome help.”

Welcome it, rather than her demanding it. And she could have demanded it, really, all cold and imperious, and what could he have said except yes? But her eyes were soft, the smile still playing on her mouth gentle.

“You’ll need to instruct me,” he said. Might as well learn a few new things while he was here, especially if it dulled her sting. ’Twasn’t like there was much else to do yet, what with revising his priorities, needing to guard her safety ahead of trying to uncover the miscreants.