“If your marriage is spoiled, it won’t be because of me.”
“You better hope not.”
“You’d better too.”
It wasn’t the pithiest parting remark, but she’d exhausted him. He spun on his heel and marched out.
“Hold it right there, Miss James!”
Jacob trotted up behind her, relieved to see that she halted. She was such an impertinent wench that it wouldn’t have surprised him if she’d continued on, despite his sharp command. He wedged his horse in very close, blocking her way so she couldn’t skirt on by.
“Hello, Captain.”
“Where is your dog today?”
“He ran off, but I expect he’ll be back. He never vanishes for long.”
“You were just at the manor.”
“Yes, I brewed some tinctures for the housekeeper. She likes to have them available for when your servants are feeling poorly.”
“So I heard. I also heard that, while you were there, you stitched a cut, treated a cough, and tended my sister whose fever is plaguing her. Have I neglected to mention any of your antics?”
“I don’t believe so, but why are you glaring at me? Should I have not treated them? Will you order me to stay away?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m happy to have you helping people. Just promise you won’t kill anyone.”
She rolled her eyes. “You can be so absurd. Is that all you came to say? I should try not to kill anyone? I’m busy, as usual, and you’re not. I have chores.”
“You seem to have forgotten our prior conversation. Did I—or did I not—ask you to inform me whenever you visited?”
“I didn’t suppose you were serious.”
“I’m always serious. You are not to ever stop by without pausing to chat with me.”
She frowned. “Why are you so insistent about it?”
“I have no idea, but you’ll oblige me anyway.”
“Fine. On future occasions, I’ll have you summoned.”
“That’s more like it. Where are you off to? It appears you’re headed to your cottage. Climb up, and I’ll give you a ride.”
“I’m not letting you take me home.”
“Why not?”
“First off, I don’t like horses. They’re big and . . . big.”
“You liar. You love them so much that you can talk to them.”
“And second, I don’t understand why you’re pestering me. There must be others who can entertain you. Why must it be me?”
“If I ever determine the cause of my obsession, I’ll apprise you as to what’s fueling it.”
He wedged his horse a bit nearer, and he leaned down and extended his hand. She stared at it, but didn’t reach for it.
“Coward,” he taunted.
“I didn’t think I was afraid of anything, but I might be afraid of you.”
“What a ludicrous comment. Why would you be afraid of me?”
“You have wicked intentions. Are you a scoundrel? Is that your reputation?”
“No, but you’re spurring me to behave in new ways.”
“I don’t want to be friendly with you.”
“I don’t care, and my opinion is the only one that matters.”
He’d been telling the truth when he’d claimed he didn’t understand his fascination. In his stultified world of naval officers and upper-crust families, everyone carried on pretty much the same. She was the sole person he’d met in ages who provided any variety.
At least he was pretending that was the basis for his fixation. He refused to accept that he was desperately attracted to her. A man of his station never fraternized with a woman of hers. There was no position for her to occupy except that of mistress, but an immoral liaison had to be pursued in the city where rural sensibilities weren’t considered.
He could never trifle with her in the country where gossip abounded about his every move. He was pushing his luck simply by trotting after her.
Due to her odd skills and independent style of living, she was already a strange creature who generated stories. If he coaxed her into a scandal, she’d be crushed by the weight of rumor and innuendo. He would never be able to repair any damage, even if he vigorously defended her.
He’d about given up on escorting her, figuring she’d stomp off in a huff, when she grabbed his wrist. With a quick lift, he had her seated in front of him on the saddle.
He bent in and ruffled his nose in her beautiful hair, saying, “You smell so good. Like flowers and sunshine.”
“It’s probably because I’m so often out-of-doors.”
“It’s not a special perfume you produce to entice men?”
“No.”
She laughed, her voice sweet and sultry in a manner that tickled his innards. He dipped in and kissed her. He couldn’t help himself. Since he’d kissed her the previous day, he’d yearned to repeat his folly. He’d told himself the prior embrace had been committed in a moment of temporary insanity. If so, what was his current excuse? Could there ever be one?
There were always people in the woods, so there could be witnesses to his foolishness, but he wasn’t concerned. Why was that exactly?
He had a fiancée lodged in his home. She was busy, planning their engagement party. She was eager to speed up the schedule, to rush the wedding, yet he was loafing in the forest with another woman.
What was wrong with him? Was he hoping he’d be discovered? Was he hoping Roxanne would find out and cry off?
It couldn’t be that. He was fully prepared to become her husband. Or was he? Every time he pictured himself speaking the vows, his anxiety would spiral, and he’d feel as if he couldn’t breathe.
He had a sneaking suspicion that it was his guardian angel warning him to back out. Did he believe in guardian angels? He was fairly certain not.
When he drew away, she looked extremely exasperated, and she said, “What shall I do with you, Captain?”
“Why would you have to do anything? And it’s Jacob, remember?”
“You can’t keep kissing me. What, precisely, are you expecting to achieve by it?”
“It makes me happy. Must I have more of a reason than that?”
“I suppose you always get your way.”
“Of course. What would be the point of life otherwise?”
He urged his horse forward, and the
