Free Daring In a Blue Dress by Katie MacAlister

middle-child peacemaker.” Alden snorted. “She clearly is one of those bossy women who likes to take charge of things and run them. Well, she’s not going to run me. I don’t need her or her interfering ways.”
    Elliott audibly choked.
    â€œAnd the sooner she realizes that, the happier we’ll all be. Not that I’ll see her much. She’ll be with the others out in the garden, and I’ll be focusing on the house,” Alden said over the sound of Elliott coughing and wheezing. “‘Focus on the house’ is my new motto in life. I will focus like the wind. I will be the most focused man who ever lived. I will focus like, as the Americans say—did I tell you that Mercy is American?—as she would say, I will focus like no one’s business.”
    A spate of coughing was the answer to his declaration.
    â€œAre you all right?” he asked solicitously.
    â€œNo,” Elliott wheezed, his voice hoarse and gritty. “But at least I didn’t run away from Alice when I met her.”
    â€œYou’re supposed to be supportive. That sort ofcomment is not supportive. That is judgmental and petty. I will leave you to your judgmental, petty coughing fit that you wholly deserve, and go attend to my house.” A dull grating sound started overhead, growing sharper until he looked up in time to see three tiles and an ancient bird’s nest fall to the ground in front of him. “It is, after all, what’s important.”
    â€œYou’re protesting too much,” came the hoarse reply.
    â€œI’m not doing any such thing. I’m simply telling you where my priorities lie, and that I really don’t want a woman munging up my plans. If you could find a way to have Alice call off her protégée, I’d be grateful. There are enough people clogging up the house now without having another one.”
    â€œToo late, I believe,” Elliott wheezed. “Alice said something about the woman being on her way.”
    â€œDammit.” Alden straightened his shoulders, stepped over the slates and the bird’s nest, and set out again on the gravel path. “Well, I’ll just deal with the woman when she arrives. Perhaps I can leave her a note, and I won’t even have to see her. Oh, hell, I forgot to ask Mercy about the bat. Er . . . I don’t suppose . . .”
    â€œNo,” Elliot said, his voice still rough around the edges, although he had stopped coughing. “I will not call her up and ask her for you.”
    â€œThat’s a fine sort of supportiveness you practice,” Alden said pointedly, and, after a few more remarks of that nature, hung up the phone. He waffled for a minute, trying to rally enough inner strength to hunt down Mercy so he could apologize for his brusqueness, followed by an inquiry into her experience with possibly ill bats, but decided in the end that he’d put off that task until later. Instead, he toured the remainder of theestate, checked the condition of the outbuildings, and took photos of various spots around the exterior of the house about which he’d seek professional opinions.
    An hour had passed when his stomach reminded him that he’d had a meager lunch at best, and perhaps a little food might be in order. The thought that Mercy might be in the kitchen was almost enough to send him running (again), but in the end, he persuaded himself that she wasn’t likely to be present.
    She had other things to do, no doubt. There was that Vandal character—he sounded like a right bloke with the ladies. He just bet Mercy would fall for that sort of a man. Not that he cared. Not that it mattered whom she fell for, so long as she didn’t expect to stand around chatting with him, and leaning in to the point where he could smell that delicious scent that seemed to wrap around her, or feel the nearness of her body. No, he didn’t need that in his life, and