LITMIR.BIZ

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the windows even though they were closed. His arrival at Croston had opened Pandora’s box. He’d resolved the disagreement between his tenants, only to have a dozen other issues crop up. The two days he’d planned to spend had turned into a week.

      A week’s worth of nights alone, remembering Katherine shooting daggers at him with those topaz eyes while she held her blade at his throat.

      He took a swallow and leaned his head back, closing his eyes while the liquid slid down his throat. On his lap, the book he’d been trying to read began to feel heavy. He opened his eyes and looked down at it.

      A Treatise on Domestic Pigeons: Comprehending All the Species Known in England...

      He set his glass aside and searched for the last sentence he’d read. This was the moment he’d been looking forward to for months. Years.

      Relaxation was what he really wanted, anyway. Not marriage to a woman who would always make him feel a little bit mad, who would always keep him listing to one side or the other. A woman who saw him as her captor, when all he’d ever done was—

      He inhaled sharply and flipped a page. Never mind about that.

      He reached for his cognac.

      If only she were his captive, he would truss her up like a Christmas goose and keep her in his bed until she gave up her will to fight him.

      He felt himself grow hard, and cursed.

      “Brother?” Honoria’s voice called from somewhere inside the house. “James! I know you’re here, you ridiculous man.”

      Oh, of all the bloody—

      She swept through the library door from the morning room. “There you are. La, you look a fright. I realize this is the country, James, but there must be limits.”

      He downed another swallow of cognac. “What are you doing here?”

      “We’ve lost our polite manners, as well. Excellent. I’ve torn myself away from London in order to save your marriage, brother dear, and convince you to return posthaste.”

      “You needn’t have bothered. The marriage is beyond annulment.”

      “Of that I have no doubt, but is it beyond adultery?”

      He looked up at her.

      “Oh, do forgive me. That was much too strong a word.” He recognized that look in her eye too well. “I only meant that Katherine is enjoying the Season, which is as it should be. I’m certain that despite your absence so soon after the wedding, Katherine is confident of your continued love and affection, and would never do anything to cause you a moment’s alarm.”

      From the moment he’d landed in a sodden mass on the deck of her ship, she’d caused him nothing but alarm. “Don’t be coy with me, Honoria. Have out with it.”

      She assessed him shrewdly. “I’m certain, for example, that her new friendship with the Duke of Winston is exactly that—friendship.”

      “Winston.” His blood ran cold.

      “People are forming all kinds of acquaintances these days,” she said with a careless wave of her hand, and smiled. “Perhaps she is teaching him how to defend himself more effectively against a sword. Oh, now, don’t look like that, James. Murder isn’t the answer. Besides,” she added, growing serious, “this is all your fault.”

      “What,” he said slowly, “is happening between Katherine and Winston?” Merely saying those names in the same sentence made him feel sick.

      “Likely nothing. But one can never be sure. You must return to London and fix it.”

      “Fix it,” he bit out. “As though I can simply charge into London and wave a wand and force her to love me.”

      “Love you! Is that what this is about? You have a fine way of showing it, lying to her about the vote. Why in heaven’s name— Never mind. I know why. James, you are blinder than a mole. She would have accepted you if you had but asked.”

      “You speak where you are not informed.”

      “Pooh. I’ve never seen a woman more heartbroken than Katherine. She loves you—of that you may be sure.”

      “Has she told you as much?” he demanded. “Do you have proof?”

      Honoria huffed in exasperation. “Thank goodness you haven’t called for tea—most rudely, I might add—because I shall certainly need something stronger before this conversation is finished. Of course she hasn’t told me. This is Katherine we’re talking about. But it’s true. She hasn’t been pleasant company at all.”

      “Irrefutable proof indeed.”

      “Sarcasm is so ugly, James.” She perched on the arm of his chair. “She has one of those awful trinkets—the very one you teased me about, with your likeness.”

      That awful brooch?

      “She doesn’t know I saw it,” Honoria confided. “There was a drawer ajar on her dressing table, and I spotted it inside.”

      “Along with myriad other odds and ends, I’m sure.”

      “Why would she have it if not to possess a likeness of the man she loves?”

      “Why indeed. To think how your talent for scientific reasoning has been wasted all these years.” It could have been a gift. Or a memento of her own heroic act of saving his life. “Perhaps she plans a ceremonial desecration.”

      Honoria snorted. “You are an ass, James. A blind ass. It’s your choice, of course, whether to come to London and set things right, or leave Katherine and the duke to their devices. I don’t think I shall stay for any refreshment, after all—thank you for offering,” she added dryly. “The masquerade is tomorrow night, and if I leave immediately I can still get a decent night’s rest tonight. Katherine is planning to attend as a pirate, by the way. I haven’t seen her costume, but I’m told it is positively scandalous. I’m sure I shall envy it more than anything.” She reached for his hand, her expression darkening. “James, it frightens me to see you like this.”

      He didn’t want her frightened. He just wanted her to leave him alone. “After years of exacting discipline, you can hardly begrudge me a few days of sloth.”

      “Sloth, James? Really?” She searched him deeply, and he looked away. “You’ve slunk away to Croston the way an animal goes off on its own to die.” She was quiet for an uncharacteristically long moment.

      “Go back to London, Ree. I’m fine.”

      “You aren’t.”

      He looked her in the eye and called up all the clarity he could muster. “I am. I’ve been looking forward to this for months and now, finally, I’m home.”

      She pursed her lips. “Very well,” she finally said. Impulsively she reached for his arm. “Anything can be fixed, dearest. Have you tried everything? And I do mean everything, James.”

      There was one thing he hadn’t tried. I love you. He imagined saying those words to Katherine, but could only imagine her scorn if he did.

      * * *

      HIS HEAD POUNDED like the devil after Honoria left. Winston! Bloody hell. He needed to return to London now. Today.

      But what good would it do? It was far too late to fix anything. He’d acted with complete disregard for Katherine’s feelings—there was no way to change that now. And in the process, he’d robbed himself of ever knowing whether she might have chosen him of her own free will.

      Yes! Her sharp answer shot through his head. He set his glass down and sat forward, cradling his head in his hands. If he’d just renewed his proposal instead of assuming he knew what she was thinking...

      Perhaps he would return to London. God only knew what he’d do when he got there, but he would think of something. He was her husband.

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