Page 35 of A Courtship of Conspiracies
“No.” She took a step forward to stop him, feeling guilty that she had goaded him. “I would not wish you to be uncomfortable, which is why I was just leaving.”
“I assure you, your presence is not making me uncomfortable. In fact, you are the precise reason I am here.” The teasing tone had vanished from his voice. He moved toward the table and pulled out a chair. “May I join you?” He sat down without waiting for her response and poured himself a cup of now-lukewarm tea.
“Let me call for a new pot of tea,” she said. This was her chance to escape the interrogation that was sure to follow.
“Sit down, if you please,” he said, his voice leaving no room for refusal. As much as she dreaded this conversation, shesupposed it was better to be done with it. She sank into the chair, hoping the heavy, gray skies framed in the windows were not an omen of what was coming.
He shifted closer in his seat across the table and set down his teacup as his steely eyes met hers. “My dear Kate,” he said in a voice barely restrained, “would you do the honor of explaining to me what we are doing here?”
“We are enjoying a pleasant if unremarkable cup of tea while taking a respite from the weather, Lord Brenton.”
His bearing stiffened as soon as his title passed her lips. She was not sure if she still used it for his reaction or to remind her heart to keep its distance.
“You are aware that was not my meaning.” He leaned across the small table, frustration evident in every word. “I asked for your word, Kate. That you wouldn’t do anything reckless. You couldn’t even wait three days before riding off for Dover alone?”
Her spine stiffened at his accusation. “You asked, but if you remember, I promised nothing. And even if I had, I am not being reckless. I am merely traveling to visit my aunt. I have my maid and a footman with me as well as our coachman. I have done nothing that could stain my reputation.” She lifted her chin in defiance.
He scoffed. “Nothingyet,but you and I both know the real purpose of your journey.”
Guilt pricked her conscience because he was right, but she did not like his heavy-handedness. “My aunt suffers from gout and is often unwell and wishing for company.” She shrugged, hoping he would dismiss the matter entirely.
“The devil, Kate! Do you intend to sit there and persist with that story? I nearly broke my neck pushing Apollo along miles of muddy roads, halting at every inn along the way to inquire after you.”
Her heart skipped several beats at the worry in his voice.
“I was perfectly fine. I didn’t need—”
He sprang to his feet, nearly tipping his chair, his hand gripping the edge of the table.
“What kind of gentleman would I be if I allowed my betrothed to run off halfway across the country? And for something so dangerous?”
Allowed.The word struck her like a slap. His worry for her might have softened her if it had not come with the suggestion that he had a say in her choices. He spoke as though she were something to manage, not someone to trust. She had hoped he would come to feel some affection toward her, but whatever he felt for her, he kept it fiercely guarded, offering only supervision when what she really wanted was a partner. Even his concern held the shape of a cage.
“I am sorry to weigh so heavily on your sense of duty, my lord, and I certainly do not owe you an explanation for why I am here.” She fought to keep her voice from shaking, though tears burned just beneath the surface. She would not be an obligation. She would not be managed. And she would not accept duty masquerading as affection. “Let me relieve your conscience of any further duty toward me. I think it best if we end our courtship.” She pushed back her chair and stood.
James went still, shock plain on his face. “No, Kate.” He dragged a hand through his still-damp hair, sending drops of water across the table. “I spoke poorly.” He swallowed. His eyes were stripped of their usual reserve. “I do not want this to end. Please forgive me.”
Kate resented how her heart betrayed her at the sound of James’s apology, at the sincerity in his eyes, at the low timbre of his voice stirring something warm and treacherous within her. She exhaled slowly as the space between them crackled with all their unspoken secrets. Despite her maddening attraction to theman and all that stood unresolved between them, she did not want to be forever at odds with him.
“Must we be enemies?” she pleaded softly. “I am weary of every exchange between us turning into a battle.”
“Enemies?” Surprise flashed across his face. “Kate,” he said, moving slowly around the table. “We are not enemies.”
“Are we not?”
“Not in the least,” he said as he reached her, standing far closer than necessary. “If we were enemies, I would never touch you like this.” He lifted his hand and tucked a curl behind her ear, his fingers slowly grazing the curve of her cheek as he drew back.
A shiver coursed through her. She retreated a step in an attempt to escape the emotions warring within, but the rough planks of the inn wall stopped her.
“Perhaps we ought to be friends then?” she managed in a whisper.
A slow smile spread across James’s face as his dark, intense gaze swept over her. Did she imagine his gaze lingering on her lips? He braced his hand on the wall near her head and leaned closer still until his mouth brushed her ear.
“Is that what you wish for us, Kate? Mere friendship?” His fingers glided down the length of her arm, unhurried and deliberate. When he reached her wrist, his thumb traced slow, maddening circles on the sensitive skin, a touch that weakened her resolve.
“If we are neither enemies nor friends, then what are we, my lord?” She had not meant for her voice to tremble.
His hand settled at her waist, hemming her in against the rough-hewn wall as he erased what little distance remained between them. She could easily slip away but found she did not want to. Her hands rose of their own accord to clutch the damp linen of his shirt, the solid warmth of him seeping through thelayers of her dress. Slowly, he bent his head until there was nothing but him. The soft scratch of his jaw on her cheek. The scent of sandalwood and damp leather. His breath brushing her ear as he whispered,
