“Hmm. That we do.”
Reminding her of their history like that was a dunderheaded move. Leaning back against the balustrade, he took a deep breath and forged ahead. This was why he’d come, after all. To speak with her, not just enjoy looking at her. “Is that how you prefer tae go on? In public, at least, pretend you don’ hate me?” Her direct gaze led him to believe she was considering his words, but her expression wasn’t exactly friendly. “I apologized back at the inn, and I meant it, lass. I’d like tae make this right between us if I can. Business has me in London. If there’s anything I can do while I’m here, I’d like tae do it.”
She cocked her head. “What business?”
The question caught him off guard. “I’m building a brewery. Someday all the fine houses in Town will drink Woodrest’s ale, made from my estate’s hops.” Saying it out loud shot a burst of pride through him. “I accepted the Bartlesbys’ invitation hoping tae make connections with future customers, but we both know how quickly that evening veered from plan.”
She laughed softly, so he took that as encouragement to continue talking. “But before all that happens, I have tae find a decent brewmaster—which is proving tricky.”
Lady Charlotte worried at her bottom lip with her teeth, and Ethan forgot the thread of conversation entirely for a moment. “I might know someone. Our brewery was famous in Westmorland once upon a time. The brewmaster left when things…changed a few years ago.” A flutter in her voice implied that there was a story there. “Last I heard, he’d moved to London. I can see if he’s looking for a new position if you’d like.”
Ethan blinked. Could it really be that simple? “That’s incredibly generous of you, Lady Charlotte. If he’d be willing tae leave the city, it would certainly solve my problem.” An awkward chuckle rose unbidden, and he shifted on his feet. “Is that your plan? Make me indebted tae you tae make things right between us?” He winced. “That was supposed tae be a jest, but I sound like an arse, don’ I?”
She made a little bit motion with her thumb and finger. “A simple thank-you would have sufficed.”
“Apologies, lass.” He cut a small bow. “If you’d be so gracious as tae send along your former brewmaster’s direction when you discover it, I’d be very grateful.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s your idea of a simple thank-you?”
The air shifted between them at her teasing. Tension in his shoulders eased, and he found himself grinning. “Is there anything I can do in return? Help with while you’re in Town? Speaking of, why are you in London, lass?”
“I suppose it will be public knowledge soon enough.” She stared down at her fingers, then knotted them in a fist at her waist. “I’m looking to marry. If all goes well, I’ll find someone suitable, set a wedding date for next year, and be home before the Season begins.”
Calmly stating a plan of that magnitude might as well be waving a red flag at fate. Ethan couldn’t stop a laugh. “Easy as that, aye? The romantic in you is showing.”
“Who said anything about romance?” It was her turn to laugh, but the sound held sharp edges hinting at things he didn’t understand. “Love does not last, Lord Amesbury. Even if an emotional attachment persists, life will find a way to interfere. My parents are proof of that.”
Ethan cocked his head. That was unexpected. “If not love, then what about other reasons tae marry? Affection, companionship…lust?”
Her dark eyes widened and her breath caught.
The last word became a tangible thing between them, coming to life at the mere mention of its name. Lust. Possibly the only thing stronger than the history they shared.
His senses focused on her. The light and shadows playing on curves of soft flesh. The tang of lemon, tempting him to taste. Her exhale whooshed out, warming the air between their faces. She might be light-headed after holding her breath for so long, but it was proof that she was reacting to him. Pleasure bloomed in his chest. He wasn’t alone in this attraction. At least, not in this moment.
“Don’ you want someone tae woo you? Quote Byron like a fool? ‘She walks in beauty,’ et cetera. An appropriate quote for this evening.” He smiled, daring a compliment. “You look lovely, but I’m sure you already know that.”
“Are you trying to seduce me, Lord Amesbury?” The question retained some of her teasing tone, as if to downplay the shift between them.
He leaned an elbow on the stone balustrade, canting his body closer. This conversation wasn’t going to plan at all, but he wasn’t inclined to course correct. After several years of living like a monk, separating himself entirely from his old rakehell habits, it felt marvelous to flirt again. Especially with her. “If I attempted a seduction, I think we both know you’d find some way tae put me in my place.” That drew a smile from her. “I admit, I’m curious tae hear your thoughts on marriage, lass. You seem tae have settled on a plan.”
The way she met his eyes boldly, despite the flush spreading across her skin, shot straight through his blood. Arching a brow, she said, “You mentioned affection and lust. Neither is a prerequisite for marriage.”
“That’s a shame, lass. Being familiar with both, I’d hate for you tae miss out on them.” Something compelled him to push her on the subject. Maybe it was his way of testing her boundaries to see if she’d relax with him.
The pink dusting her chest deepened. More proof that he wasn’t the only one affected by the conversation. “I have other priorities, my lord.”
“As much as I admire a woman with a plan, emotions have a habit of overriding our intentions, aye?”
“I wouldn’t know.” Her hands clasped the stone railing
