“Good enough.” MacMasters retrieved the small book from an inner pocket of his great coat. “Try not to snore.”
“Snore? How amusing you are,” Johanna retaliated. “My life was well-ordered. I was content. Now, I’ve been forced to leave that behind. But you…you thrive on wreaking chaos wherever you go.”
“Ah, he’s not such a bad sort,” Mrs. Duncan spoke up. “He’s a rogue, he is. But truth be told, the mon’s got a heart o’gold.”
“Touching as that testimonial may be, it’s a waste of breath. The lass will never have faith in my good character. And that’s the way it’s meant to be. Natural adversaries, we are.” Connor regarded Johanna with a wounded look so obviously feigned, she wondered that he did not rend his clothing for effect.
Harrison shot his brother a glower. “Good God, you’ve missed your calling on the stage. You’ve heaped the manure so high, I need field boots to wade through it.” He turned to Johanna. “As your journal has been recovered, we cannot take the risks involved in retrieving whatever else was left behind. That being said, I’ll procure new garments for your journey in the morning.”
Mrs. Duncan’s keen eyes seemed to measure Johanna. “That actress traipsed off without botherin’ t’take some of her things with her, a few dresses that might fit ye…though they may be a wee bit overabundant in the bodice.”
Harrison shook his head. “That won’t suit. We want Miss Templeton to blend in.”
“We can’t be too choosy now, can we?” Another assessing glance, and Mrs. Duncan nodded to herself. “I’ll show the lass to her room for the night. And then, I’ll gather some clothes for the morn. I believe I’ve got just the thing.”
“If ye happen to have a nun’s habit lying about, that might be exactly what the lass requires.” Connor flashed a sly smile. “Judging from that diary of hers, that’d be my suggestion.”
“Connor MacMasters, I always did say yer father erred by not applying a switch t’yer behind when ye spouted off.” The rueful set of Mrs. Duncan’s mouth betrayed both her irritation and fondness.
Looking rather pleased with himself, Connor folded his arms at the waist. He’d managed to exasperate both Johanna and the housekeeper, and the mischievous boy he’d undoubtedly once been gleamed clear in his eyes. “I had my fair share of the switch, I’ll have ye know.”
“Not near enough, as I see it,” the matron said. “Miss Templeton, I’ll show ye to yer room now.”
“Thank you. But first, there’s one thing I need to know.” Johanna knotted her hands into fists and planted them on her hips. “Mr. MacMasters, you already have the book, and you had the audacity to read my private journal. As infuriating as those facts may be, I cannot ignore the question that’s nagging at me.”
“And what might that be?”
“As I see it, you had little need for me at that point. So why did you follow me when I fled this house?”
“Was I to leave ye to those curs?”
“That’s what I am asking you. You had already commandeered everything I possessed that might be of value to you. You are certainly not the gallant sort. And yet, you put yourself in danger to pursue me and bring me back to this place.” She fixed him with a stare. “Why?”
His jaw set in a tense line, and the mischief evaporated from his gaze. His eyes darkened as he studied her, and all the while, Johanna counted the beats of her heart. She’d asked a simple question, not one that required contemplation, but the embers in his gaze made it clear he had not made light of her inquiry.
“Lass, that’s a question I’ve been asking myself. Instead of warming my bones by the fire with a tumbler of whisky in my hand, I spent the night dodging bastards who’d cut my heart out and chuckle while they cleaned their blades. And all to save the pretty hide of a daft American. So, the answer to yer question, Johanna Templeton, is plain and simple—I’ll be damned if I know.”
Johanna followed the housekeeper’s trudging steps to the room she’d occupy for the night. Mrs. Duncan opened the door, lit a lamp, and beckoned Johanna inside.
“A little rest will do ye good, lass.” Kindness infused the housekeeper’s tone. “I know it’ll do my weary bones some good. Twice tonight I was roused from a sound sleep. I can only hope there won’t be a third.”
“On my account, I suppose. I am sorry.”
Mrs. Duncan gave a little shrug. “Don’t go worryin’ yer head about it. The first time I heard ye in the study, I came to see what MacMasters was up to. Between the two of ’em, ye never know what the cat is goin’ to drag in.”
The housekeeper’s observation pricked at Johanna. What must the matron think of her arrival at Harrison MacMasters’s home under such scandalous circumstances? Well, there was nothing to be done about it. She’d have to make the best of it. Mrs. Duncan might well provide some insight into the MacMasters men.
“You know them well?”
“Ye could say that. But don’t think I’ll be spillin’ their secrets.” The matron looked only too eager to talk, despite her words to the contrary.