“Allow me to remind you,” she interrupted, “Julia is not yet out. Having an unmarried man in the house under these circum—”
“Oh, please,” Markham interrupted right back. “Unruffle your feathers, you squawking hen. You’ve been the perfect chaperone for years, and Lord Bromton is honor personified. I’d never put you or Julia at risk.”
“Oh, really?” She narrowed her eyes. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten what happened the last time you brought home a friend.”
Markham’s smile disappeared. “No. I haven’t. But you seem to have forgotten thatfour yearshave passed.”
“Apparently”—she lifted her chin—“you have yet to mature.”
“My judgment has improved, as has my taste in friends.” He crouched down to look into her eyes. “Especially my taste in friends, don’t you agree?”
“No.” She widened her lids for emphasis.
Markham clucked his tongue. “You positively drool over the marquess.”
“I do not!” Dratted, inconvenient attraction.
“Drool,” he repeated, still crouching. “You’re smitten. What other cause would inspire such impressive theatrics? No meat. No eggs. No sleep. And then”—he mimicked her voice—“ah, the demimonde.”
“I,” she drew out the single syllable, “was trying to rid Southford of the colossal problem you brought into the house.”
“By colossal, do you mean Olympian?”
“By colossal,” she shoved a finger in his chest, “I mean leviathan and elephantine.”
“I see.” He rubbed his chin. “Colossal as in massive and magnifi—ugh.”
Her palm sunk into his chest. “You feather-brained,” shove, “ninny hammered,” shove, “lobcock!” shove. “Someoneat Southford must adhere to duty.”
“You can be a real shrew.” Markham grabbed her shoulders and set her at arm’s length. “Do you understand that, Kate?”
“I cansometimesbe a shrew.” She rose to her toes. “But you arealwaysan ass.”
She stared him down, her nose nearly touching his. His eyes, dark hazel and furious, bore back into hers. Then, his eyes crinkled.
“I’ve a fine ass,” he said, “as you can now attest.”
An involuntary snort broke from her chest.
“You are monstrous,” she said with love. “And I hate you.”
She sunk back onto her feet, and he wrapped her in a light, brotherly embrace. She rested her forehead against his chest, surprised her head did not bump up against his chin. He’d certainly grown tall. She hadn’t taken note of that, either.
Probably because she’d been drooling over Bromton. Massive, magnificent Bromton.
“Just what,” she asked, “are you doing with a friend like the marquess?”
“A friend like the marquess opens doors.” Markham released her and chucked her under her chin. “Someone has to adhere to duty.” He threw her words back with a slanted grin.
“You befriended the marquess in the interest of advancement?” She folded her arms. “I don’t believe that for a second.”
“Why not?” He headed over to his bed, flopped on his back, and propped up his torso with his elbows. “Have you some specific objection?”
“Fix that.” She waved at his exposed legs.
“Offended by my knees? Such delicate sensibilities! That atrocious cap must be going to your head.” He pulled the bedcovering over his lower body. “Happy?”
“Thrilled,” she said sarcastically. “Now,” she sat on the edge of the bed, “tell me the truth about Lord Bromton. I warn you, I won’t tolerate another quip.”
