Unable to resist, she glanced at him in the mirror as she brushed her hair.
He sat propped on his elbows near the unlit hearth, legs stretched out before him. Light from the wall lamp gleamed off his shiny, mussed hair, and cast shadows over his sun-burnished skin.
He stared back at her, unblinking, and her blood began to simmer.
“Did you learn anything interesting while dining with your brother and…fiancé?” Zeke asked dryly.
She set down her brush and swiveled to face him. “I don’t know what you mean by interesting.”
“Do you know where you’re headed, for one thing?”
“Oh. Yes. We’re going home to Hastings House.”
“Any pertinent topics of discussion over the dinner table?”
“Pertinent to whom? I don’t see what this has to do with—”
“Kitty? Humor me. I have, after all, stood by you during your entire nightmare, at least since being made abreast of it.”
She dropped her chin. “I’m aware. I just don’t want to argue during the little time we have left.”
“Who says answering my questions will lead to an argument? For that matter, why assume our time together is limited?” His mouth curved upward giving her a glimpse of gleaming white teeth.
She shook her head, grinning despite herself. “Fine. Have all the boring details. Evidently Garrick sent a message to his solicitor requesting a meeting to discuss how best to proceed with the title exchange.”
“I see.” He glowered at no one in particular. “And everyone ends up happy, with each a tidy little sum and his just desserts. Tell me, how do you like being served up like a steaming apple turnover?”
“Zeke,” she warned.
“Once you’re wed, there goes your inheritance, as well. All your hard-earned independence, gone, in one fell swoop, 'til death do you part.”
She turned back to the mirror, and resumed brushing her hair with sharp, angry strokes.
“Or you could leave with me, now.”
“I’d be so much better off then, wouldn’t I?” she snapped. “An independent wife of an absent lord. A brood mare, set out to pasture.”
“Suit yourself,” he bit back.
She heard a plunk on the floorboards and hazarded a glance at Zeke in the mirror.
He lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling.
She longed to go to him. To wrap her arms around him and confess her undying love. Couldn’t he see this was the last thing she wanted? Her only bright spot in this lamentable ordeal was having her brother returned from the dead.
“Are you sleeping in your gown?”
She blinked at Zeke’s unexpected question. “I thought I ought to.”
“I’m not going to ravish you.”
She knew that. He hadn’t even kissed her goodnight.
“You’ll be more comfortable sleeping in your night dress. Do you need help undressing?”
“No. The ties are in the front.”
He was right, of course. She would be more comfortable in her nightrail. “Don’t look.”
