“You’re awfully rude—when you so desperately need my help.”
“Don’t flatter yourself into thinking you’re indispensable to me.”
“I’ve made myself indispensable. Jacob and I are like brothers. If you’re not nice to me, what link can you boast that will keep you safe with him?”
“I’ll be his wife, which will put me quite a bit higher on the ladder than you. Best watch yourself.”
He snorted with amusement and sauntered into the room. There was a brandy decanter tucked behind a vase. She liked to act as if she was modest and retiring, but she had more vices than any female in the kingdom. A passionate taste for liquor was just one of her many bad habits.
He poured himself a glass, then went over to the window to gaze outside.
“I didn’t offer you a drink,” she testily protested.
“I don’t care.”
She huffed with offense, then sat down at the desk. She sifted through her papers, pretending to ignore him, but she couldn’t.
“Miss James is coming across the park,” he said. “Could she be a witch? It’s the gossip among the stable boys.”
“Honestly. There’s no such thing as witches. Don’t be absurd.”
“Apparently, she can cast spells and brew magic potions. You should have her tell your future. Or might you be too afraid of what you’d learn?”
“If anybody should be afraid, it’s you.”
“I don’t like her constantly showing up here,” he said. “Why is she? She’s unwed and much too fetching. It simply stirs up the male servants.”
“Margaret must be having another fit of the vapors.”
“Now, now,” he snidely chided, “don’t be snotty about your sister-in-law. She had a terrible marriage, and she’s struggling to recover.”
“I can’t abide weak, trembling ninnies. Nor can I understand how a woman would let herself be abused. Mr. Howell has dropped dead, so she’s free. She should quit whining and celebrate.”
“Were you aware that Jacob visited Miss James at her cottage?”
He peeked over his shoulder, delighted to see Roxanne freeze. She feigned nonchalance with him, but she wasn’t very good at it.
“He visited her? So what?”
“It’s just her and her niece. He was worried that it might be dangerous for them, living in such an isolated spot.”
“Again, Kit, so what? Why mention it to me?”
Miss James was fascinating and bewildering, and she exuded an air of vulnerability so a man wanted to protect her. Roxanne was the exact opposite. She didn’t comprehend how to persuade a man to need her. She simply blustered forward toward her goal, shoving dolts out of her path, and he was curious how she’d fare with Jacob.
Kit predicted it would be like a grueling carriage accident, and of course, he’d wedge wrenches into their relationship. When he detested her so vehemently, it was the least he could do.
“How are the party plans progressing?” he asked.
“You’re not interested in the party, and I’m not discussing it with you.”
“I’m Jacob’s devoted agent. I have to be interested in every facet of the estate.”
She blew out a scoff. “Pigs might fly someday, I suppose.”
“How is the guest list? Will we have any intriguing people joining us? Or will it be a bunch of stuffy Ralston aunties and cousins? You two have such tedious kin.”
“If you must know, Mr. Estate Agent, Jacob is inviting Caleb and Blake Ralston.”
He blanched with astonishment. “You’re joking.”
She smirked. “No, I’m not.”
“Gad, Esther will be spinning in her grave.”
“That’s what I told him.”
“Will you send them an invitation? Or will you claim you forgot?”
“I can hardly forget. He specifically requested I handle it.” She leaned back and raised a brow. “Here’s some news that should distress you. We’ve talked about moving up the wedding date. I may be Mrs. Jacob Ralston much sooner than you were expecting.”
“Why the rush, Roxanne?” He cast a contemptuous glance at her belly. “Is there a little bun in the oven? And if there is a bun, how are we to be sure Jacob is the baker?”
“There’s no bun, as you so crudely put it.”
“What’s driving you then? Why am I suspecting there are rumors trailing after you from Italy?” Most times, she was unflappable, but at his comment, her cheeks heated, and he realized he’d hit on the truth. “You must be anxious to get a ring on your finger before your antics there are exposed. Is that it?”
“Shut up, Kit.”
He downed his brandy, walked over to the desk, and slammed down the glass. “The scandal must be hideous—if you can’t let Jacob find out. Is it another baby? Will you spit out a second bastard that must be concealed from the world?”
She bristled ferociously, then grabbed a letter opener and leapt to her feet. She poked the tip into his chest so deeply that it would leave a small tear in the fabric of his shirt.
“If you ever breathe a word about that again, I’ll murder you,” she said. “I won’t hesitate. You think you’re smarter and more important than me. You think you have a huge secret to hold over my head, but I hold the same secret over yours.”
“It thrills me to envision telling Jacob some of your sins. He truly has no idea what sort of person you are. Shouldn’t he be apprised?”
“I wonder how he’d view some of your sins,” she tossed back. “What if he discovered what we’d done all those years ago? Your cozy job wouldn’t last very long. If Jacob threw you out, you lazy fiend, who else would have you?”
She pushed him away and plopped down on her chair. She glowered at him, her loathing clear, but his was clear too. Their malice oozed out, and he had to give her credit. In any battle, she was a worthy opponent.
“Touché, Roxanne.” He nodded. “It seems we are to be conspirators in guaranteeing Jacob is happy with his choice of bride.”
“He’ll be happy with me. I’ve been waiting since I was a girl to
