Hearts wounds, she thought he was a commoner. She really had no idea who he was. Trick smiled to himself, then sobered. Considering yesterday’s encounter, if she knew nothing of him, her brothers were even more protective than he’d thought.
He rose to set his empty goblet on the mantel, then turned and leaned back against it, crossing his arms and ankles. “Your folks were different, then?”
“Oh, yes. They had a perfect, romantic marriage and loved each other very much. Too much, according to one of my brothers. He says they loved each other and the monarchy, and there was nothing left for us.”
“But you don’t agree.”
A statement, not a question. He watched her eyes as she considered it, noting the bright intelligence. “No,” she said at last. “I never knew them well, as they left to fight in the war when I was yet a babe. But I always felt they loved me.”
“Love.” Once he would have said the word with derision, but now, twenty-eight years old and wiser, he managed to say it with only dispassion.
Still, she caught his ambivalence. “You don’t believe in love?”
He just shrugged.
“You don’t love anyone? No one loves you?” Her light green eyes looked incredulous. “Not anyone, in any form?” She colored suddenly and stood up. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I’m…we don’t know each other. I shouldn’t ask such questions.”
He watched her amble to the window, her steps sure, not the mincing progress that passed for walking among the tittering ladies at court. He couldn’t picture her whispering behind a fan, though he was sure she attended balls and the like, and probably had a wonderful time.
Not a social animal himself, he shuddered at the thought, his gaze following her graceful hand as she traced the path of a raindrop with one finger.
“Ask away,” he assured her. “I’ve nothing to hide.” It wasn’t the truth—it wasn’t even close to the truth—but it sounded nice. “No, I don’t love anyone.”
He saw her watching his reflection in the windowpane. “Your parents…?”
“Made my life miserable.”
She turned to face him. “Brothers or sisters?”
“Ha! Not a chance. I reckon my folks came together once, and once only—and lived to regret it, I’m sure.”
At his frank words, a becoming pink bathed her skin. He wanted to make her flush even more, with the pink glow of passion. But Cainewood’s stern face hovered in his mind, along with those of the man’s formidable brothers, and Trick knew it would never be.
She didn’t deserve to be used, and he had no wish to bear the consequences.
“You love someone, then?” he asked.
“Oh, yes.” The sunshiny smile was back. “My brothers, all three of them. And my new sisters—my sisters-in-law, actually—and my niece. When I first held her tiny body in my arms and she looked into my eyes…it was love at first sight.” Her gaze focused on him and darkened. “I guess you don’t believe in love at first sight, either?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t believe in love at all. Maybe I did once…but not anymore. Love’s only an illusion.”
Her mouth dropped open, then closed. It looked soft. “It’s no illusion,” she stated in a tone that brooked no argument.
He grinned, enjoying her naïve confidence. “Love for a babe in arms, well, perhaps. Love between rational adults…not bloody likely.”
“You’ve no plans to marry, then? Not ever?”
“Of course I do.” Lifting his goblet, he crossed to the cabinet to pour himself more wine. “Perhaps a decade from now. But love won’t have anything to do with it.”
“Someday,” she said, “someone will change your mind. Someday you’ll fall in love.”
“You make it sound like a promise,” he said, amused.
“Then you can take it that way. And a Chase promise is never given lightly.”
He seemed to remember hearing one of her brothers use those words. “Hell, lassie, I hope you’re right. But I’m not going to lay money on it. Would you care for more wine?”
With a glance out the window at the pounding rain, she nodded and came forward to hand him her goblet. He poured, then handed it back. Their fingers met, his warm, hers cool.
