Katherine’s fortnight pardon had nearly expired. She sat pond-side, her feet tucked carefully at her side, wondering if she would ever be able to summon the courage to tell Bromton the truth. Shielding her view, she spotted the boat that held Markham and Julia in the distance. Julia’s giggles mixed with Markham’s muted baritone.
From the opposite side of the blanket, Bromton chuckled—likely at something within the pages of the gentleman’s magazine Markham had left behind. Their afternoon outing had been Bromton’s suggestion, though how he could have known she would find spending time with her family a more compelling enticement than the usual courtship gifts, remained a mystery.
He was either truly a kindred spirit or devilishly good at deception.
She ventured a surreptitious glance. He’d crossed his legs at his ankles, his boots still spattered from their ride. Morning rides, he’d explained, were a lifelong habit—a habit she had been happy to share, not just for his company but also for the sight of the honed muscles apparent beneath his buckskins.
She had fallen for him, and she had fallen hard. A shiver passed through her body.
“Are you cold?” he asked, without looking up. “I can get you a blanket.”
She could have sworn he’d been paying her no mind. She placed a mark next to devilishly good at deception.
“I should be cold out of doors at this time of year,” she replied. “However, the weather always cooperates when you make plans.”
A soft smile dented his cheeks. “Everything cooperates with me,” he said teasingly, “but you.”
“Ah,” she replied, “but I understand you adore a challenge.” She hesitated. “Spades.”
He set aside his magazine and propped his head up on his elbow. “Delighted as I am to know you’ve inquired after me, as I have you,”—his smile deepened—“if there is something you wish to know, you’ve only to ask.”
How do you feel about unchaste brides?It was not a question one easily asked during the daylight. Then again, it was not a question ever easily asked. But if he continued smoldering every time their gazes met, she would have to ask the question soon.
His smolder caused a corresponding burn she was becoming quite powerless to deny.
Julia’s screech interrupted Katherine’s thoughts, drawing her gaze back to the water. Markham heaved the boat back and forth, splashing water in every direction. His laughter mixed with the echo of Julia’s protests.
“Markham,” Katherine scolded, “stop it at once!”
Markham stopped, but only long enough to send her a good-natured wave.
“I don’t think he can hear you,” Bromton said.
She made a humming sort of growl. “He can be such a child. If they fall in—”
“I’ll take him over my knee, if you’d like.”
Katherine reddened to her roots and admonished him with a sharp, sideways glance.
“Warm enough now?” Bromton chuckled.
“You cannot shock me,” she said.
“Be careful.” Hetsked. “I adore a challenge, remember?”
She harrumphed. “How can shocking me be a challenge? There’s no reward.”
“Oh, but there is.” He leaned forward. “Your very pretty blush.”
She smirked. “Your humor is always a surprise, my lord.”
“You, dear hellion, call forth a humor I never knew I possessed.”
“Why, Lord Bromton, that could be the nicest thing you’ve said.”
“Nice?” he asked, his brows raised.
“Sincere,” she amended.
