Giles cradled the back of her head. “Farringis my oldest friend. Rayne is…” Well, Raynewasthe closest thing he’d had to family. “Rayne is just a friend.”
“I still do not wish to come between you,” she said.
Giles touched her cheek. “I will continue to say this until you feel it; you no longer have to take care of everyone alone.” Once he released the lever, he’d lose the comforting presence of her heat. He inhaled her scent one last time. Then, reluctantly, he swung open the door.
Light from the downstairs sconces cast shadows over Katherine’s worried features. He cupped her neck with a gentle hand and placed a light, reassuring kiss to the corner of her mouth.
“Trust me?” he asked.
Katherine nodded. “I do, Giles. I trust you with all my heart,” she said.
At her promise, his insides went tender. Her muscles relaxed under his hand, and he claimed her soft, pliant lips once again. When he drew back, the worry had vanished from her brow.
He prayed he would one day be worthy.
Chapter Eleven
Giles arrested his stride just before entering the library. He had just witnessed the dishonoring of a young lady under his protection, and by Rayne of all people. Rayne, whom he once would have trusted with his life.
For the sake of Julia’s honor, Rayne must leave. That much was clear. Two facts, however, balanced on the pin-prick of Giles’s conscience: he’d trespassed against Rayne’s sister and Rayne had trespassed against his. The salt causing his conscience to totter was too obvious to have appeared entirely by chance.
Giles may have understood Rayne’s justification, but he’d be damned if he’d excuse it.
He took a deep breath and then crossed the threshold into the library. Gently, he closed the door. Markham and Farring need not be part of what was to come. It was, in fact, far better they were not.
Rayne stood by the fireplace, one hand on the mantel, neck bent toward the flames, face flushed. His foot-tapping ceased, and then he glanced up.
Rayne’s face was long-familiar. The fury in his gaze, less so.
“I find it hard to believe,” Giles said quietly, “that Julia possesses charms powerful enough to overcome a practiced rake’s moral misgivings.”
A chilling mask descended over Rayne’s features. “And I find it hard to believe you discarded my sister for—forthis.” He waved his hand with disgust.
Giles raised his brows. “Are you admitting your little performance upstairs was solely for my benefit?”
“What the devil are you talking about?”
“Come now, Rayne. We operate under the same strictures. An eye for an eye. The pattern is hardly unclear; I disappoint your sister, so you go after mine.”
Rayne’s posture grew deathly still, much like a cat with his eyes on a bird.
There was, of course, some chance Giles had misjudged. Perhaps Julia had roused Rayne’s interest. Yet, if Rayne’s struggle with passion had been genuine, why was a malevolent sneer tugging at the corner of Rayne’s mouth?
An uneasy shudder tripped up Giles’s spine. Even if Rayne hadn’t feigned attraction, Giles must stand in defiance of Rayne’s actions as Rayne had stood in defiance of his. The cause and effect was dreadfully familiar. When one man insulted another, remedy must be demanded. For most men, that meant a duel. But could pistols prove honor?
Courage in the face of death would have been easier than this—exchanging the ugliest of truths with someone he’d cared for as a brother.
“You desired revenge,” Giles said. “That, I understand. But your carelessness disappoints.”
Rayne raised his right brow.
“Had I not possessed the presence of mind to withdraw behind the paneling,” Giles continued, “you would have landed right in the springy center of a parson’s trap.”
“Hardly,” Rayne scoffed. “Hades himself could not force me to marry that—”
Giles narrowed his gaze.
“That minx.” A muscle twitched in Rayne’s jaw, suggesting he was not as unaffected by Julia as Giles had first supposed. “If you did witness mydisplay, then you must have heard her goad.”
