“Leaving hearts for you?”
“I’ll give you a hint as to why.” Markham wiggled his brow. “Let’s just say I don’t need to go whoring.”
Katherine made a gagging noise.
“Do not ask if you do not want to know,” Markham quipped.
“So.” She slanted him a glance. “Hearts are for”—she shuddered—“love, clubs are for luck, diamonds are for money, and spades are for…” She frowned. “Digging?”
“Spades,” he said, “are for war. Brom is unable to resist a challenge, or haven’t you noticed?”
She scowled. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“I wouldn’t have brought him here if he was a lecher.”
“He must be a lecher, else he’d already be attached.”
Markham pursed his lips while he weighed what he was about to say. “Bromton had an implied connection to Rayne’s sister, a longstanding childhood arrangement that ended before I met him.”
What had just run riot through her chest?
“Ah-ha.” Markham smoothed his thumb over a wrinkle between her brows. “You’re jealous.”
She scowled.
“You needn’t be,” Markham continued. “The lady has chosen another.”
Her scowl deepened. “I do not trust him.”
Markham sighed. “Why must you deny a clearly natural match?”
“Natural?” she asked.
“You’re quick. He’s quick. You like to argue. He likes to argue.”
“Sounds like a proper suitor to me,” she said with derision.
“You’ve been closeted up in Southford for so long, you would not recognize a proper suitor if he built a willow cabin at the gate.”
Her heart squeezed. “So, you did invite him hoping we’d suit!”
He shrugged. “Bromton’s been more energetic in the past few days than I’ve ever seen him—as have you—so if I did, I’d say I’ve chosen well, don’t you agree?”
“You say he is honorable—” she started.
“But you have never trusted me,” Markham finished.
Her brows rose. “I challenge you on occasion, but I trust your judgment.”
“Why Kate.” Markham held his chest. “I am all astonishment.”
“…in matters of importance, anyway,” she clarified.
“And you don’t consider finding you a husband a matter of importance?”
Heat stained her cheeks. “Finding me a husband is not your responsibility.”
“Poor word choice.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I want to see you happy. And you cannot convince me you’ll be happy when I marry and Southford gains a proper mistress.”
