Mirrie swallowed, buying herself time. “I thank you for it.”
“I am only a physician and must look to the practicalities of life. But now that I know your situation, I believe we might build a worthy life together.”
Mirrie’s heart seemed to become lodged in her throat. Here was the declaration she had longed for, but the wrong man was speaking the words. He squeezed her fingers, but she felt no spark between them.
She closed her eyes. This was all too much, coming so soon after the tumult of the ball. “I am tired, David,” she said tersely. “Forgive me, can we speak more of this in the morn?”
“We can speak whenever pleases you.” His brown eyes shone with earnestness. “I would devote the rest of my life to pleasing you, Mirabel, if you will allow me.”
His face loomed closer and Mirrie was suddenly aware that he intended to kiss her, right here by the fountain. The very idea made her nauseous all over again. She ducked to the side and pulled her hands free of his grip.
“Good night,” she said, pretending that no awkwardness existed between them.
“Until the morn,” he called after her.
Mirrie picked up her skirts and returned to the keep, her eyes turned away from the servants and a group of guests milling in the entrance hall. As if sent by divine assistance, Molly met her at the foot of the stairs.
“May I be of help, miss?” the maid enquired.
“I have a headache, Molly. I must retire for the evening. Kindly get a message to the countess.”
Molly bobbed into a curtsy. “Very well, miss.”
Relieved, Mirrie began to climb the stairs, entirely oblivious of Tristan’s eyes boring into her back.
Chapter Sixteen
Tristan felt asif he had been punched in the stomach. Though he was usually proud of his quick wit, it was taking a darned long time for him to make sense of anything he had just seen.
Mirrie,his Mirrie, standing by the fountain, kissing the dratted physician Jonah had brought from Ember Hall.
Tristan dragged a hand through his hair, shocked to find he was trembling.
He could not deny the truth of his own eyes. Though, the more he thought on it, the more he seized on the notion that he had not actually seen them kissing. He’d seen the man, David Bryce,lean infor a kiss, and at that very second Tristan had wheeled away from his position on the front steps and careered back inside the keep, as unsteady as a drunkard.
Mayhap the maids thought him well into his cups, for none of them approached him. He was left alone to replay the conversation he had not wanted to hear.
“I would devote the rest of my life to pleasing you, Mirabel, if you will allow me.”
Tristan leaned back against the frescoed wall, hoping that by steadying his breathing he might tame the pounding in his head.
How did this happen?
One moment, she had been dancing with him, quite happily he’d thought. The next, she was walking from the great hall in a huff.
“Methinks your friend is jealous from the loss of your attention,” Susannah had said, snidely.
He’d been ready with some quip about Mirrie’s sweet temper, but then he realised that she was quickly disappearing down the corridor. Realization dawned; Mirrie had walked out on his mother’s ball. All because he had turned his back on her for a moment to talk with some friends.
He was struck abruptly with awareness that in walking away from Mirrie, he had been rude, plain and simple. But it had been a shock to see Susannah. And not a nice one. Especially when his attention and intentions had been so thoroughly focused on Mirrie. In the heat of the moment, he had reacted impulsively in the hopes of keeping the situation from getting out of hand.
Susannah was not a woman who would tolerate coming second. And so, to deal with her more efficiently, he had made of show of treating her like the most important person in the room.
’Twas only a pretence. And only for a moment. Had Mirrie waited, as he’d expected her to, he’d have been back at her side before the next dance began.
“Bloody women,” he muttered.
It was then he heard hurried footsteps and he looked up in time to see Mirrie speaking in a lowered voice to Molly, his mother’s maid. Mirrie then ascended the stairs, whilst Molly trotted off to the great hall.
