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Gallant Waif. Anne Gracie
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Jack headed downstairs, the laughter dying from his face. Now to find Miss Kate Farleigh without delay and put her straight on one or two things. A kitchen maid? Hah! Only interested in scrubbing the floor? Hah! To think he’d been worried about her! No doubt the little wretch was sitting somewhere with her feet up, laughing up her shabby sleeve at the fine trick she had played on him.
Entering the kitchen, he came to a dead halt. Kate was down on hands and knees, vigorously scrubbing the large flagstones of the kitchen floor, exactly as she’d said she would.
“What the devil do you think you’re doing?” he roared.
Kate jumped, then turned, laid down the hard-bristled scrubbing brush and sat back on her heels. She noted the black frown, the clenched fists and the outrage. Her eyes twinkled. So, he had finally discovered who she was. And was feeling rather grumpy about it. She pressed her lips firmly together to stop them quivering with laughter.
Jack’s violent reaction to the sight of her scrubbing his floor confused him. He battled with anger and an equally strong desire to lift her up and whisk her upstairs. She looked so small and delicate. She had no business attempting such a dirty and demeaning task. “I said, what do you think you’re doing?”
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