Page 9 of Brazen

“Well, Mr. Forbes, I am Leana Allerton, and this is my niece, Lady Mia.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said with a proper bow that Mia could see pleased her aunt.

“How is it you came to be the new owner of Barkely Hall?” Aunt Leana asked.

He looked nonplussed. “I learned from a friend that Mr. Lalton was interested in selling the estate.”

Leana eyed him with suspicion.

“Sir Stirling James,” he said.

“Of course,” Mia exclaimed. “We know Sir Stirling. See, Aunt, if Sir Stirling suggested Mr. Forbes buy Barkely Hall, then he must be a gentleman.”

“That is true,” Leana agreed. “Come with me, sir.” She turned and started toward the door.

He followed and Mia hurried to catch up with him. They reached the door. Leana continued into the hallway.

He stepped aside for Mia, then whispered as she passed him, “The fact I incurred my wound as a result of saving you from that ruffian is of no importance, eh?”

She gave him a narrow-eyed glare. He followed her out the door and fell into step beside her. They reached the kitchen and Cook sent for a clean shirt and ordered bandages prepared.

“Mia, boil some water, please,” Leana said, then to Mr. Forbes, “Remove your shirt, sir.”

He did as she ordered, and Mia’s breath hitched at sight of the tanned expanse of muscled flesh. Heavens, she’d seen her brothers without their shirts, but none of them looked so… She caught the curious glance Cook sent her way and whirled to face the maid, Marybelle, who was tearing a large cloth into strips. Marybelle also stared. Her gaze snapped onto Mia, eyes wide. Mia hurried across the room and pulled a pot from its hook to the left of the stove. She set the pot on the stove, then poured water from one of the pitchers sitting on a nearby table.

“There is no need to go to so much trouble,” Mr. Forbes said. “A quick clean-up will do, and the loan of a horse.”

“Susan,” Leana said to the maid who plucked a chicken on the far counter, “please have John bring the cart round to the front door. He will drive Mr. Forbes home.” The girl dried her hands on a cloth, then hurried from the kitchen into the larder, and Mia heard the rear door creak open.

“That is most kind,” Mr. Forbes said.

From the corner of her eye, Mia looked past Cook, who was cutting carrots at the table in the middle of the room, and she watched Aunt Leana carefully finger the tanned flesh around his wound.

“The cut isn’t deep, but it is about four inches long.” She frowned. “How in the world did you manage to hurt yourself?”

“As I said earlier, it was Lucy’s fault,” Mia quickly answered.

Mr. Forbes looked at her, brow arched, a hint of curiosity in his eyes.

“How is the water coming, Mia?” Aunt Leana asked.

Steam rose off the water. “It’s nearly ready.”

“Put a couple of the smaller cloths in the water before it gets too hot, then ring them out and bring them to me,” her aunt instructed.

Mia grabbed a wooden spoon from the table, pulled a platter from the shelf, then dropped in two cloths and swirled them around. She removed the pot from the heat, then spooned the cloths from the water onto the plate. Gingerly, she tested the heat, found it bearable, then wrung out the water and delivered the clothes to her aunt.

Seeing Mr. Forbes’ bare chest up close—close enough to touch—made her oddly lightheaded. Aunt Leana extended a hand and Mia realized she wanted the cloths. Mia held out both hands, a cloth in each hand. Leana took the cloth from her right hand and began cleaning the wound. Mr. Forbes winced.

“Bring some of that hot water in a bowl, Mia,” her aunt said, as the maid that Cook had sent to fetch a clean shirt entered the room.

Mia complied and watched as Aunt Leana gently cleaned the wound.

“Do you plan to farm the land at Barkely Hall?” Aunt Leana asked, surprising Mia. Aunt Leana cared nothing for business of any kind.

“I do, indeed, ma’am,” he replied. “I will raise cattle, as well.”

“How nice,” Aunt Leana said, but something in her voice caught Mia’s attention.