Kit was nodding. “I like it. All right, choose something appropriate. Connie, why don’t you fit her out while Malcolm and I update his wardrobe? If he’s going to keep up his reputation in London, I suspect he’ll need a new item or two. And you’ll need a couple of `ink’ getups as well, I think, so your down-time friends don’t recognize you when you two go slumming.”
Connie beamed. “Help yourselves. Gosh, I love it when scouts and guides put their heads together and go shopping!”
Kit groaned. Malcolm laughed. “Don’t worry, Kit. I’ll try to be gentle with your budget.”
”Pray do, sir,” Kit drolled. “It isn’t unlimited, you know.”
They strolled off in the direction of the men’s clothing. Margo watched them go. “They’re…” She pause, suddenly embarrassed.
”There what?” Connie asked curiously.
”Nothing,” Margo mumbled. She’d been about to say, `There really sweet, aren’t they?” but had stopped herself just in time. She’d gotten where she was by being tough and uncaring. Now wasn’t the time to let down her guard, not with her dreams almost within grasp. But she couldn’t help thinking it. They were sweet. Even Kit, when he wasn’t glowering at her for whatever she’d done wrong most recently A flash of insight told Margo he glowered because he didn’t really know how to talk to her.
That was all right. She didn’t really know how to talk to him, either, not without a whole retinue of defenses in place. A smart mouth and a lifelong habit of sarcasm skillfully combined with pouting frowns and winning smiles-weren’t exactly the most useful skills if she wanted to learn more about this man as a human being, rather than a legend.