“But . . . ?”
“She happened to glance out her window and saw us in the garden.”
“You kissed me under the rose arbor. I warned you not to.”
“I didn’t listen.”
“Now we’re found out. What has she urged you to tell me?”
When she posed the question, she was totally serene, as if his answer didn’t matter to her in the slightest. He felt as if his innards had been squashed in a vice. How could she be so blasé?
“We simply chatted about my intentions toward you.”
“I hope you insisted you don’t have any.”
“It’s not that I don’t have intentions,” he said. “It’s that they wouldn’t be honorable ones.”
She chuckled. “Is Margaret worried that I’m praying for you to toss over your cousin and wed me instead?”
“Well . . . ah . . . yes. She believes I’m leading you on when I shouldn’t be. I couldn’t deny that she was correct.”
“I will admit to suffering a few spurts of whimsy where I dreamed of us marrying, but I’m not an idiot. I’m not the sort of wife a man like you needs by his side.”
The statement was exhaustively true, but he hated for it to be. She could never be the bride a man needed, but what about her being the bride a man wanted? He suspected he’d never have a dull day with her. She’d always surprise and delight him.
“You’re pretending I haven’t overstepped with you,” he said, “but I’ve behaved badly and raised your expectations. Despite how you claim otherwise, I’m certain you’ve painted a hundred mental pictures of the future you envision with me.”
The remark sounded incredibly arrogant, and she scoffed with derision. “I’m sure it will put a huge dent in your massive ego, but I’ve mentioned this before. The women in my family don’t wed. Men are too much of a bother—as you’re proving right now.”
“You’ve told me that, but I’ve flirted with you outrageously, and I’m positive it’s caused you to consider walking to the altar with me.”
She tsked with exasperation. “You are so vain, but I like you anyway.”
“I can’t decide if that’s an insult or a compliment.”
“Will this be your last visit?”
“It has to be. I’ve let a relationship flare between us, but it’s impossible.”
“Yes, probably.”
“I have many personal issues to address this summer. I can’t have you distracting me and befuddling my thought processes.”
“Are you befuddled? You seem quite lucid to me.”
“Every second I’m away from you, I obsess constantly and wish we were together. I definitely view that as a distraction.”
“Will you stay away from me? Is that your plan.”
“It has to be.”
“Are you predicting time and distance will snuff out your fascination?”
“Yes.”
He’d mope and pine away, but for pity’s sake! He was Miles and Esther Ralston’s son. He was a navy captain who guided a ship around the globe. He would break off their friendship, and he wouldn’t ponder her, wouldn’t stop by, and in a few weeks, his bizarre attraction would wane.
“Would you notify your sister for me,” she said, “that I won’t be able to attend her anymore?”
“We don’t have to be that dramatic. If she’s feeling poorly, you should tend her.”
“I can’t. I’m finished nursing people at the manor.”
A wave of alarm washed over him. What was he doing? Would he really never see her again?
“Margaret’s condition has improved,” he said, “but what if she suffers a relapse? What if she needs one of your tonics?”
“I sell them at the mercantile in the village. She can buy them there.”
Her cool attitude was setting a spark to his temper. He was bereft, as if he was making every wrong choice, but she was so calm. They might have been discussing the weather.
He shook his head with disgust. He’d just bluntly informed her that he was severing their amour, and she’d agreed to his edict without argument or tears, so he could hardly complain that she wasn’t weeping.
Then she said the very worst thing: “You’d better go.”
Was there any reason to refuse? “Yes, I suppose I should.”
“Please don’t come again. This will hurt me for a bit, and I’ll have to reconfigure my world without you in it.”
It was a poignant declaration, and exactly the kind he’d been dying to hear from her, but as she uttered it, she was completely preoccupied, as if she’d already moved on to more important concerns.
“I won’t pester you in the future,” he said. “I swear.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.” She scowled. “You won’t force us to leave, will you? You won’t kick us out? I’ve been fretting about that. Once you’re married, it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to remain here.”
At the prospect of her departing, his heart actually seized in his chest. “No, don’t be silly. You won’t have to ever leave.”
“That’s good to know.”
She stood and went to the door, and he dawdled on his chair, staring at the fire. A voice in his head was shouting, Are you an idiot? Are you a fool? Don’t do this! Not when you’re so happy with her!
But Margaret was correct: It was cruel and immoral to trifle with her.
He stood and walked to the door too. He couldn’t bear to depart without kissing her goodbye, but when he would have tried, she stepped away, providing the distinct message that he shouldn’t dare.
Mutt had been loafing by the hearth, and he said to the dog, “Will you accompany me?”
Apparently, the dog was over him too. He slunk down on his paws, indicating he’d rather not.
He trudged out without another word. After all, what was there to say?
As he climbed onto his horse, she closed her door, and he tarried for a minute or two, thinking she’d peek out the window, but she didn’t. He sighed with regret, with remorse, then he yanked on the reins and trotted away without looking back.
“This is the most fantastic story ever!” Clara gushed. “It’s like a fairytale in a book.”
“I thought you’d like it,” Joanna said. “Grab your cloak and bonnet. We should be going.”
They’d just had breakfast, but they’d delayed so Clara could read
