Still, she must have caught something of his skepticism, because her brow furrowed. “You don’t believe the departed can love?”
He shrugged. “I don’t believe in love at all.”
“You don’t love anyone? No one loves you?” Her light green eyes looked incredulous. “Not anyone, in any form?” She colored suddenly and stood up. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I’m…we don’t know each other. I shouldn’t ask such questions.”
He watched her stride to the window, her steps sure, not the mincing progress that passed for walking among the tittering ladies at court. He couldn’t picture her whispering behind a fan, either, though surely she attended balls and the like, and probably had a wonderful time.
Not a social animal himself, he shuddered at the thought. His gaze followed her graceful hand as she traced the path of a raindrop with one finger.
“Ask away,” he assured her. “I’ve nothing to hide.” It wasn’t the truth—it wasn’t even close to the truth—but it sounded nice. “No, I don’t love anyone.”
He saw her watching his reflection in the windowpane. “Your parents…?”
“Made my life miserable.”
She turned to face him. “Brothers or sisters?”
“I have none. I reckon my folks only tolerated each other’s presence long enough to make me.”
At his frank words, her cheeks flushed a becoming pink. “And what of God?”
He considered his answer. “Well, of course I love God, but that’s different. It’s love between people that’s an illusion.”
Her mouth dropped open, then closed. It was a pretty mouth, he noticed, not over-plump, but perfectly shaped. “It’s no illusion,” she stated in a tone that brooked no argument.
“You love someone, then?”
“Oh, yes.” The sunshiny smile was back. “My brothers, all three of them. And my new sisters—my sisters-in-law, actually—and my niece. When I first held her tiny body in my arms and she looked into my eyes, it was love at first sight.” Her gaze focused on him and darkened. “I guess you don’t believe in love at first sight, either?”
He grinned at her exasperation. “For a babe in arms…perhaps. Between two full-grown adults…not a chance.”
She shook her head, her eyes once more full of pity. “You’ve no plans to marry, then? Not ever?”
“Of course I do,” he said lightly. Avoiding her eyes, he lifted his goblet and crossed to the cabinet to pour himself more wine. “Perhaps a decade from now. But love won’t have anything to do with it.”
“Someday,” she said, “someone will change your mind. Someday you’ll fall in love.”
“You make it sound like a promise,” he said, amused.
“Then you can take it that way. And a Chase promise is never given lightly.”
He seemed to remember hearing one of her brothers use those words. “I hope you’re right. But I’m not going to lay money on it.”
She smiled. “I’m not much for gambling anyhow. Is there something on my face?”
“Beg pardon?”
Frowning, she rubbed her chin. “You’re staring at my face.”
Actually, he’d been staring at her lips.
Flustered, he dropped his gaze to the empty goblet in his hand. “Was I?” he said vaguely, and cleared his throat. “Would you care for more wine?”
With a glance out the window at the pounding rain, she nodded and came forward to hand him her goblet. He poured, then handed it back. Their fingers met, his warm, hers cool.
Between them the goblet slipped to the floor.
She gasped, staring as a dark stain spread on the cream background color of the patterned carpet, then dropped to her knees to collect the broken crystal and dab at the blot with the hem of her riding habit.
Trick gazed down at her bright, panicked head. “Stop,” he pleaded through stifled laughter. “You’ll ruin your skirt.”
“I’ll ruin my skirt?” Worried green eyes looked up. “Then will the stain not come out of the carpet, either?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea,” he mused. Surely one of the servants would know how to remove it. If not, he could always bring another rug from his London warehouse.
“But…I’m not usually clumsy.” She scrutinized the stain, then sat back and wrapped her arms around her bent knees. “And I’ve got you in trouble, then.”
“In trouble?” he repeated stupidly.
“The crystal and the carpet…” She bit her lip, then her eyes cleared. “Tell the owner I’ll pay for it all. Or rather, my brother will. It won’t be a problem.”
Tell the owner. Oh, she was precious. She thought he was a criminal, yet she worried about his carpet and angering his presumed landlord.
She’d be more on target worrying about his self-control, he thought wryly, reaching down a hand to help her rise. Then he stood blinking down at her, wondering where that odd thought had come from, and realizing it was true.
At her full height, the top of her head came just to his chin. She tilted her face to meet his gaze. Her hand was still in his, and seemed likely to remain that way for the immediate future. He could hear her breath coming rather fast over the patter of rain on the roof.
Slowly, her free hand came up to sweep the hair from his eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, then she touched a fingertip to his lower lip, exactly in the center, so lightly he wondered if he imagined it.
Real or imagined, he felt it. He stared at her pretty mouth. “Don’t be sorry.”
She blinked and pulled her hand from his.
He nearly made a grab for her before remembering who she was. He gave himself a little shake, thinking it had better stop raining soon.
“Come, there’s water in the bedchamber.” He turned on his heel and headed for the corridor, knowing she would follow. “We’ll rinse the stain from your skirt before it can set.”
He poured water into the washbowl and set it on the low table by the bed, then beckoned her near and handed her a towel.
She wetted it and leaned down to dab daintily at her hem. Frowning, she dipped again and
