Her brother stood in the hallway.
She attempted a smile.
He did not reciprocate. Instead, he hustled into the room and closed the door. “For heaven’s sake, Kitty, you look…” He broke off, eyeing her head to toe with evident disgust. “Haggard is the word that comes to mind.”
Kitty sniffled. “What a lovely thing to say,” she retorted, but with no heat. She knew she looked a fright. She’d never been an attractive crier.
“You know very well seeing you miserable makes me feel just awful. If that was your intent, you’ve succeeded.”
“I’m sorry, Collin. Of course I don’t wish you to suffer on my account.”
Collin took Kitty’s cold hands in his. “Sweetheart, listen to me. It’s just marriage. A formality really. After you’re wed, you will live in Hastings House, with me, like before.”
Like before. Except grandfather wouldn’t be there. “Where willhelive?”
Collin laughed. “He as in Garrick? He’ll live there, as well, love. He will be your husband, after all.”
She repressed a shudder of revulsion. “Of course.”
“Stop looking so glum. Splash some water on your face, pinch your cheeks, and for heaven’s sake, put on a fresh gown. I’m going downstairs to see about our supper. I’ll have a quick pint, then return to fetch you. How does that sound?”
She nodded obediently.
“Give us a smile.” He chucked her under her chin.
She forced the corners of her mouth upward.
After he left, she stripped off the simple muslin traveling gown she wore and opened her trunk. She pulled out the first dress she touched. What did she care what she wore?
Except shaking out the green day dress, she saw she’d need assistance getting into it, what with all the tiny buttons running up the back. She replaced the gown, and pulled out another. The yellow linen? Hmm. It laced up the back, as well.
She dug deeper—and found a dark blue gown of watered silk. Fancier than the moment dictated, especially considering her mood, but as the velvet ribbon tightening the bodice laced up the front, it would do.
She washed at the basin, for once taking no solace from her lavender and rosemary soap.
She was pulling on her gown when Collin knocked. He hadn’t given her nearly enough time to freshen up after he’d expressly asked her to do so. How like her brother.
“It’s open, Collin. I’m just finishing.” She did her best to sound cheerful as her fingers tugged at the velvet ribbon tie.
The door swung open with unnecessary force, hitting the wall with a bang.
She glanced up—and froze. It couldn’t be. Zeke? Here? It wasn’t possible.
She must’ve spoken the thought aloud, because the man in her doorway bearing a striking resemblance to Zeke growled a response.
“The devil I can’t.” He swept into the room, golden hair wind-tossed, nostrils flaring, cheeks flushed, and coat tails flying. He looked glorious—and mad as hell.
Kitty couldn’t speak. Couldn’t form a rational thought. Not with the myriad emotions whirling within her. Joy and pain, hope and sorrow, and unbearable longing.
Zeke shook his head, as if bewildered by the sight of her. “I’ve ridden like the devil all day to find you. To save you from your abductors. And I find you like this.” He gestured toward her. “Dressing for dinner.”
Her mouth fell open. He sounded as if she’d hurt him. Zeke—who refused to care about anyone. “I…it’s just a dress.”
He took one halting step toward her, hand outstretched. “Has he touched you?” he asked in a hoarse voice, studying her with tortured eyes.
Her heart melted in her chest. “No. I’m quite safe, Zeke. It isn’t like that.”
“No?” he bit out, peeling off his overcoat and throwing it to the ground as if it were aflame. Next he stripped off his riding gloves with impatient yanks, and slapped them onto the discard pile. Shoving his fingers through his hair, he stalked toward her.
