A Diamond in the Rough (v1.1) by Andrea Pickens

Author:Andrea Pickens [Pickens, Andrea]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-03-13T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Philp took one look at her face and put his file down. “Tommy, run along to Robertson’s shop and pick up the box of featheries he has ready for me.” As soon as the lad had scampered off, he turned back to Derrien. “What’s wrong, lassie?” he asked in a low voice.

She took a seat on the corner of his work bench and ran a finger along the hickory shaft he was shaping. “N— nothing—”

“Don’t try to gammon me, Derry.” A callused finger tilted her chin up so that he was able to peer under the brim of the heavy tweed cap at her reddened eyes.

A lock of hair fell across her cheek and she reached up to brush it away. “I’m sorry, Hugh. I didn’t mean— it’s just that things have gotten ... so confusing.” “Hmmm.” He took up his pipe and, without a word, slowly tamped down the fragrant tobacco, patiently waiting for her to go on.

She toyed with a small pile of wood shavings, reducing it to mere dust. “He likes gardens!” she finally blurted out.

Philp didn’t have to ask whom she meant. “Ah.” The flint struck up a spark. “I should have thought that would not be a mark against him.” A puff of smoke obscured his expression. “Indeed, I would have expected you to like him better for it.”

“But I don’t want to like him!”

“Hmmm. Well, I suppose that is perfectly understandable.” He bent down to sight along the length of wood. “But the problem is that you do, don’t you?”

Derrien jammed her hands into her pockets, suddenly aware of how childish her outburst must have sounded— and how hollow. With the unerring accuracy of one of his golf shots, her friend had hit on the very essence of her dilemma. A slight flush spread across her features and for the second time that day she had the unsettling notion that perhaps her own feelings were not quite as sure as she might have liked.

“You have only to say the word, you know.” Philp didn’t look up. “If you wish to quit—”

“I gave you my word, Hugh! I won’t go back on it, no matter what.”

“No matter what?” He picked up the file and began to smooth out a miniscule bump in the straight grain. “I should think about that very carefully, Derry. Maybe you should go home today and let me take his lordship out for his lesson.” He sighed as he regarded the unfinished club. “I imagine McAllister can wait until the morrow for his new putter.”

“That isn’t necessary,” she muttered. She got up and went to get the Viscount’s set of clubs.

Philp pushed the silver spectacles back up to the bridge of his nose. “I take it that it is Miss Derrien Edwards who has been discussing gardens with Lord Marquand.” When she nodded, he took another deep mouthful of smoke and slowly let it out. “Auch, be careful, lassie. Whatever else you think, he is no fool.”

She tugged at the front of her cap.

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