gave him a little pat as she might a hound she wanted to send on its way. “There, that’s better, isn’t it?”
Nodding, he scanned the hallway as though searching for an escape from what was becoming an increasingly awkward encounter.
“You didn’t answer. What else does he require?”
His attention was once more focused on her, but he seemed troubled now, his brow deeply furrowed. “Only silence.”
She gave a brusque nod of reassurance. “I can manage that quite easily.”
He barked out a laugh that seemed to circle the hallway before striking the center of her chest like a well-aimed arrow. “The devil you say.”
Her irritation with this man knew no bounds, even when he was helping her. She planted her hands on her hips. “I am fully capable of holding my tongue when necessary.”
“Why would you want to marry a man who has no interest in even hearing your captivating discourse?”
She couldn’t discern if he was teasing or being sarcastic. Surely, he’d never found anything she had to say spellbinding. “Because it might be the only way to gain what I truly desire.”
“Which is what? A husband? A duke? The title of duchess?”
If he didn’t sound so disgusted, she might have closed the door in his face. Instead, she felt an awful need not to have him judge her poorly in this one regard.
“A cottage.”
He didn’t like it when she surprised him, and it seemed of late she was doing it with increasing regularity. A few minutes earlier, her unexpectedly rubbing his shoulder had nearly robbed him of all good judgment, and he’d begun contemplating the merits of caressing her in return. What a mistake that would have been. “A cottage?”
She nodded. “By the sea. Windswept Cottage belonged to my grandmother. My fondest memories were made there, but she stipulated that it be placed in a trust for me only if I married a titled gentleman by my twenty-fifth birthday. Next year, in August, I shall see a quarter of a century. Kingsland might be my last chance to meet that deadline in a timely fashion.”
He knew something about wanting a property with a desperation that defied all logic. “Kingsland mentioned something about not wanting to be disturbed when he was concentrating. Bloody hell, he didn’t provide a lot of insight, did he?”
“Hardly worth the unraveling of my hair. I should make you brush it and replait it.”
To comb his fingers through the glorious strands, to know if they felt as silky as they looked, to divide them into thirds—
It was hair, for God’s sake. Every woman he’d ever been with had hair. He had hair. Why was it that he ached to know the texture of hers? “I’d probably just knot it all up.”
She smiled, a soft, sweet smile as though they’d never had a harsh word, as though he wasn’t a spare. “Yes, you probably would. You also make an awful spy. But you did inquire and have given me a bit more information than I had possessed, so thank you for that. Especially as it was so deuced inconvenient for you.”
But he’d walked away with two hundred pounds. He owed her for that. “I’ll keep an ear out and let you know if I discover anything else.”
“I’d appreciate that, my lord.”
“Lady Kathryn, you have been friends with my sister for a dozen years now. You are her dearest confidante. Perhaps we could dispense with the formalities.”
“You know precisely how long Althea and I have been friends?”
He remembered the first moment he’d spied her. Her dress had been blue, her bonnet white. It had rested against her back, its ribbons tied around her neck keeping it tethered to her as she’d skipped over fields of clover, laughing—before her governess chastised her for behaving like a hoyden. Perhaps that was another reason that he worked to keep her at a distance. Because he’d been so drawn in by the siren of her laugh. Or maybe he knew that if he was to catch another glimpse of the hoyden, he’d be lost.
“Not precisely.” He stepped back. “’Tis late. I should abed. My apologies for disturbing your slumber when I had so little to contribute.”
“I wasn’t asleep.”
“Neither were you last night when I returned.” Ah, there was the blush he enjoyed bringing forth, creeping up her neck and into her cheeks! He wondered if the pinkish tinge ran the length of her.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said sharply.
“What a liar you are, Kathryn. I told you I’d remember. So