That Despicable Rogue by Virginia Heath

Author:Virginia Heath [Heath, Virginia]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2016-05-16T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

When they arrived at the warehouse he left her to her own devices. He pointed vaguely in the direction she needed to go and instructed a burly-looking man to carry whatever she selected to the carriage and then he disappeared into an office at the back of the huge building without another word.

Regardless of the fact that he was probably a cheating, thieving libertine, Hannah felt strangely guilty at having so bluntly let him know how much those things disgusted her. His feelings were hurt. She knew that with a strange certainty.

She had seen it briefly flicker on his face when she had issued the barb. First hurt, then anger and disappointment had shimmered in his green eyes, as if he had expected more of her. But still he had refused to deny her accusation—nor confirm it, she was forced to note. He had merely extricated himself from further discussion and let her think exactly what she pleased—as if it did not matter to him one way or the other what she thought of him.

But she now knew that it did—and it bothered her that she had made him feel that way.

With less enthusiasm than she had expected, Hannah sorted through the hundreds of bolts of fine silk that were stacked on the far side of the warehouse.

She had not expected the building to be quite so large; the sheer size of it and the amount of material and boxes within it were astonishing. Neither was the fabric or the porcelain gaudy. Jameson had more taste than she’d given him credit for. Why she had expected less, when he was so outrageously successful, she could not say. Except that she had hoped he lacked such genteel instincts. He was easier to cope with if she could continue to label him a vulgar, uneducated and uncultured social climber.

She ran her fingers lightly over a bolt of the palest eggshell-blue fabric with delicate navy and white embroidered flowers. It would look perfect in one of the bedrooms.

‘Hello, there!’

The arrival of a very handsome blond gentleman startled her, and she blinked at him in confusion.

‘I am sorry—I can see I have given you quite a fright. Let me start again. Hello, I am Captain John Carstairs, co-owner of this wonderful warehouse, and you must be Miss Hannah Preston—Ross’s housekeeper?’

He held out his hand and she politely shook it.

Captain Carstairs was nothing like she had envisaged either. He was not coarse or common, as she had imagined a merchant seaman would be, and judging by his cultured accent he was from the ranks of the aristocracy.

‘Yes, I am Miss Preston. I am pleased to make your acquaintance, sir.’

‘I did ask Ross to come out and make the introductions properly, but something has put him in a foul temper and he is refusing to tear himself away from the ship’s manifest.’

Captain Carstairs had such an open and friendly smile that she instantly felt comfortable in his presence. ‘I am afraid that I might be the cause of his ill mood, Captain Carstairs.

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