LITMIR.BIZ

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gaze was benevolent intelligence, his step firm and confident. If Sam had been forced to express an opinion of another man’s looks, he’d have called this one exceptionally handsome. From the toe of his boot to the top of his head, the fellow was the perfection of English manhood.

      It made Sam even more conscious of how he must look in comparison. Lord Thorne might think him a threat to Evie’s happiness. But with his worn blue coat, thin purse and modest future, a duke would hardly notice him. Unless Evelyn had grown to be as foolish as she was beautiful, she would have no trouble choosing the better man.

      As if to prove his point, Evie rose as well and held out her hands to the duke. She smiled warmly and greeted him with genuine affection. ‘St Aldric.’

      ‘My dear.’ He took her hands and held them for a moment, and Sam felt the uncomfortable pricking of jealousy and the punishment of being forgotten. She was pulling the other man forwards by the hand, just as she had lured Sam to the garden to sit beside her. It was yet another proof that the communion he had felt between them was nothing more than the warmth she showed all living things.

      Now she was smiling back at him with proper, sisterly pride. ‘I have waited long to introduce the two of you and now I have my opportunity. Your Grace, may I present Dr Samuel Hastings.’

      ‘The one of whom you speak so fondly. And so often.’ There was a fractional pause between the two sentences, as if to indicate jealousy, or perhaps envy of the attention she paid to him.

      ‘Your Grace?’ Sam bowed, giving a peer the required respect.

      The duke was watching him in silence and Sam was sure, if they had shared something as egalitarian as a handshake, it would have become a test of strength. In it, St Aldric would have felt the roughness of the calluses on his hands made by a firm grip on a bone saw, then he would have been dismissed as not quite a gentleman.

      ‘Doctor Hastings.’ But it had not taken something so common as physical contact to do that. The less-than-noble honorific had been enough. The duke’s frosty demeanour thawed into a handsome smile, now that he had assured himself of Sam’s inferiority. Then St Aldric gave Evie another fond smile. ‘I have been quite looking forwards to meeting this paragon you have been describing to me. I swear your face fairly lights up when you speak of him.’

      ‘Because he is my oldest and dearest friend,’ Evie said dutifully. ‘We were raised together.’

      As brother and sister. Why would she never say it? It would make life so much easier if she would understand the significance of that.

      ‘We spent very little time apart until he went to university,’ she added.

      ‘To be a leech,’ the duke replied blandly. It made Sam feel like a parasite.

      ‘A physician,’ Evie corrected, protective of his dignity. ‘He was ever so clever when we took lessons together. Good at maths and languages, and fascinated by the workings of the body and all things natural. Sam is a born philosopher. I am sure he is most wonderful at his job.’

      ‘And you have not seen him in all these years,’ the duke reminded her. ‘I shall try not to be too jealous of your obvious affection for him.’ Then he stated the obvious, so that there might be no confusion. ‘If Dr Hastings has not come back to sweep you up before now, the man has quite missed his chance.’

      ‘I suppose he has,’ Evie answered. She sounded unconcerned, but Sam suspected the words were a goad to action.

      ‘Suppose?’ St Aldric laughed again, willing to pretend that she had been joking. ‘That is not nearly as confident as I wish you to be. Do you expect us to duel for you? I will call him out and we will see who is the better.’ This too was more joke than threat.

      ‘Do not talk nonsense,’ Evie said hurriedly. ‘I would think you both very foolish if you fought over me.’

      ‘If it displeases you, then I shall not attempt it. He is a military man, after all. It would be even worse should Dr Hastings prove skilled enough to defeat me with a pistol.’ The duke smiled at Sam, as though inviting him to join in the fun and prove that he had no feelings for her. ‘With my luck, I would end with a ball in my shoulder that would have to be removed by the man who put it there. He would be doubly the hero and I would lose you twice as fast.’

      ‘You have nothing to fear,’ Evie repeated.

      ‘Nor do you,’ St Aldric reminded her softly and kissed her on the forehead.

      There was no passion in it. It was delivered almost as a benediction. But Sam saw it for what it was. Even if there had been no public announcement, the woman between them was spoken for. In response, Sam gave St Aldric the slightest nod to prove that the message was understood.

      Evelyn paid no more attention to the kiss than she would have to any other salute. But she was staring at the duke with the same teasing affection that she had shown to Sam only moments before. ‘I see you have arrived empty handed again.’

      Rather than chide her for her greediness, St Aldric laughed as though this was another old joke between them. ‘I know you better than that, my dear. You would send me packing if I came without some sort of gift.’

      Once again, Sam cursed himself for not being able to say those words to her himself. But it might ease his jealousy if St Aldric proved to be as shallow as Sam hoped, and gave her something that did not suit her.

      It appeared that was not to be the case. The bulging pocket of his coat trembled slightly, though the duke did not move.

      ‘What is it?’ Evie said, eyeing the lump with curiosity. ‘Give it to me this instant. It does not appear to be very happy where it is.’

      ‘And that is why I brought it to you. I am sure it will be much happier, in your care.’ He reached two fingers into the coat and withdrew a sniffling ginger kitten, placing it gently in Evie’s lap.

      ‘Oh, Michael.’ Instantly captivated, she set Sam’s spyglass aside and scooped the little thing up so that she could look at it, eye to eye. It blinked back at her, before letting out a nervous mew and settling down into the hollow of her hand. She stroked its head and nuzzled it to her cheek, smiling. ‘It is too perfect.’

      And Sam had to admit it was. Like the telescope, it held her attention in a way that a necklace never could. But unlike Sam’s desperate good luck in finding something suitable already in his pocket, St Aldric had learned her preferences and planned in advance for this surprise.

      She rewarded him with a smile so warm that Sam could swear he saw the duke colour with humble pleasure. It was sickening. Could not this interloper have behaved like the peer he was, pompous and demanding, blustering into this sacred space and defiling it so that Sam might hate him in good conscience? Could he have been a slightly less imposing physical specimen, with the beginnings of a paunch, or some spot or blemish?

      Instead, he continued to be perfect. And he was looking down at Evie and the kitten as though he had never seen a lovelier sight.

      ‘What shall I call you, little one?’ She held it up again, staring into the grave green eyes. ‘Something to suit your nature, for I am sure you shall be a great hunter, when you are old enough. Orion, perhaps.’

      St Aldric cleared his throat. ‘I should rather think Diana would be more appropriate.’

      He was educated as well? A cursory knowledge of mythology and feline anatomy was not an indication of genius. But at least it proved that he was not some inbred dolt.

      Evie turned the kitten in her hands and gave the underside a second look. ‘I think you are right.’ Then she turned it right way up and kissed it upon the head by way of a christening. ‘Diana it is. And you shall have the run of the garden, a bowl of cream and, when you have lost your milk teeth, you shall have all the mice you can eat.’

      ‘You will spoil it horribly,’ Sam said, trying to be the gruff and grumbling older brother.

      Evie gave him a disgusted look. ‘It is not possible to spoil a thing

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