or so. My hope and expectation is that Her Grace will take Lucy to live with her, oversee her debut, and guide her through society. If we are fortunate, Lucy will make a good match and be happily married by the end of the year. I assure you, I shan’t bother you at all. You will hardly know I’m here.”
He shoved aside his empty plate and grinned.
“How is that amusing?” she asked.
“You excel at polite-speak,” he said. “‘I shan’t bother you at all’ means ‘I don’t want to talk to you any more than necessary.’ ‘You will hardly know I’m here’ means ‘I’m going to pretend you don’t exist.’ Am I right?”
“How marvelous that we understand each other.”
“Which means, ‘Of course you’re bloody well right.’”
“Please, Mr. DeWitt. Your language.”
“You like my language. It gives you an excuse to scold me instead of making an honest response.”
“I don’t…I wouldn’t…You…Oh.”
Words failing her, Cassandra folded her arms and eyed him mutinously. To suggest that she was not honest! She was simply being civil.
“You should not mock politeness,” she said. “It’s our best defense against killing each other.”
“Our best defense against killing each other would be to return to our separate lives. We’ve gone a whole two years without even being tempted to kill each other, which is more than other married couples can claim. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Mrs. DeWitt, trying to ruin our perfect marriage.”
“I assure you our marriage will be just as perfect if we go about our business and ignore each other completely.”
He heaved a sigh. “Have you ever heard of barnacles?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Barnacles. They are horrid marine creatures that cling to the hull of ships and slow them down. They are damn near impossible to get rid of, and there are men whose sole job is to scrape them off. You, Mrs. DeWitt, are as tenacious as a barnacle.”
“I shall take that as a compliment, Mr. DeWitt. I am glad you are beginning to be reasonable and understand that it would be a waste of your precious time to scrape me off.”
Cassandra pushed back her chair and stood. He did not stand, of course, and it would be a waste of breath to point out that a gentleman never remained seated when a lady stood. Her husband was not a pure gentleman, but a strange, hybrid creature, one of the few who could cross between the opposing worlds of gentry and commerce, thanks to a rare combination of his breeding, business acumen, and, she suspected, sheer bloody-mindedness.
Those dark, intense eyes followed her as she rounded the table toward the door. She had to pass right by him and found herself pausing at his side. The bruise on his cheek caught her eye.
“It does look like it hurts,” she said. “Although I daresay you deserved it. You are exceedingly infuriating.”
Hardly aware of what she was doing, she lightly touched her thumb to the bruise. Her fingers brushed his cheek. The scruff was surprisingly soft, and she only barely resisted the urge to stroke it. She glanced down and there was his chest, still naked, still muscular, and yes, with a smattering of dark hair. She hastily withdrew her hand and tangled her fingers in her skirts.
There was something she had to say to him, but she couldn’t think what it was.
“Are you going to kiss it better?” he said.
His tone was light and teasing and she carefully didn’t meet his eyes. Instead, she concentrated on the wound. An angry purple mark, that sharp cheekbone, that hot skin, that soft stubble. She could do it. She could press her lips against his face, right there. She often gave her sisters a kiss on the cheek, and her mother too. It was easy enough. Bend down, draw closer to his heat and his energy, and press her lips…
She looked away from his cheek and accidentally met his eyes. Hot liquid brown.
He wasn’t laughing now. He wasn’t teasing anymore. His sudden seriousness vibrated through her and hummed over her skin. Suddenly she realized just how much of him there was, and how close he was. His hand was barely inches from her thigh. She would not even have to straighten her elbow if she wanted to flatten her palm on his chest.
Then—then—he stood. That is, he unfolded upward with a sinuous languor at odds with his usual swiftness. She arched back, and her bottom pressed against the arm of the neighboring chair. He made no move to touch her,