at him again. “You lied.”
“I did. I’m sorry. I thought it might be easier if you didn’t see it coming.”
“Well we won’t know now, will we?” she managed through gritted teeth.
“Not unless you care to break another vase?”
She stopped rocking to gape at him. “Are you making fun of me?”
“I am,” he admitted and reached up to brush the back of his fingers against her cheek. “But only to distract you. Is it working?”
It was, rather. The pain had dulled to a throbbing ache. “It’s possible.”
“Poor Kate,” he murmured and leaned in to press his lips to her forehead. “It’s been a rough morning for you, hasn’t it?”
It had been a rough night as well, but she didn’t want to think of their argument in that moment, not while she was hurting, and he was being so kind. She’d think about their argument when she felt better and he was back to being a high-handed oaf.
She closed her eyes and sighed as the throb lessened. “I’m sorry I called you a rotter.”
“Don’t be. I did lie.” He tapped her chin gently until she opened her eyes. “Better now?”
She nodded as he pulled away to retrieve her handkerchief. He used it to stem the fresh flow of blood.
“You’ll need to take proper care of this,” he told her, his voice taking on a serious tone. “Keep the wound clean, and keep it covered when you go to bed. I’ll hunt up some bandages for you.”
“Yes. Thank you.” She glanced to where he’d set the shard he’d pulled out. It wasn’t an inch, she was relieved to note, but she wouldn’t have described it as small either. It was triangular in shape, with the base a good quarter inch wide.
“I can’t believe this happened,” she said, somewhat awed. “I never hurt myself. Not seriously…Well, I did give myself a black eye with a door once. And I think I may have broken a toe when I fell out of father’s curricle, but—”
Hunter’s head snapped up. “You fell out of a curricle?”
“There were no horses attached to it at the time.” She gave him a sheepish smile. “A game of hide-and-seek with Evie when I was ten.”
“Ah.” He cleaned the cut a moment longer, then returned the handkerchief. “No one goes through life without acquiring an injury or two, Kate. Don’t overthink the matter.”
“I can’t help it. Overthinking comes naturally to me.”
“I see.” He sat back in his chair and studied her. “And have you had second thoughts about speaking with Whit, yet?”
“No.” It was a lie. She had reconsidered speaking with Whit, but she wasn’t yet ready to hand Hunter that victory.
Hunter’s lips twisted wryly. “And you accused me of being spiteful.”
“I’m not being spiteful,” she countered. “I’m being vengeful. It’s entirely different.”
“I can’t believe I’m going to ask this,” he muttered, “but how is it different?”
“Only the latter implies one is standing up for oneself,” she explained.
“Vengeance isn’t a virtue, Kate.”
The smile she gave him was Machiavellian. “Oh, it can be.”
He didn’t smile back. “Would it make any difference if I were to apologize for last night?”
Apologies, when genuine, always made a difference. But she wasn’t ready to hand him that either. “I suppose that would depend.”
“On?” he prompted.
“Why you were apologizing, and what you were apologizing for. If you’re going to offer a vague and sweeping sort of apology for ‘last night’ or ‘the argument’ just to make me more biddable, then I assure you it won’t help. But if you’re quite sincerely sorry about something specific—”
“I am,” he broke in. He caught her gaze and held it. “I am genuinely sorry I called your honor into question. It was wrong of me.”
“Oh, well, yes, that does make a difference.” All the difference, or quite a bit at any rate, there was still the question of whether he believed it. She looked down and plucked at her skirts. “When you say wrong, do you mean wrong because you know it isn’t true, or wrong because it isn’t something you should say even when it is true?”
“Kate, look at me.” He waited for her to stop plucking and look up. “I knew it wasn’t true, but I was willing to ignore that because I was angry with you and wanted to twist the conversation to my benefit.”
She nodded slowly. “Very well, apology accepted.”
He nodded in return. “Excellent, now—”
“Are you sorry for initiating the threat to tell Whit as well?” she asked, not because she needed for him to be, but because