“How positively medieval, Jules.” He made a sour face. “Preserve. As if you were a strawberry. Iintervened. I’m notGod. I happen to find you charming. And if, in the time since, you’d found some pasty-faced thing that set your heart tiresomely aflutter, I would have happily attended your wedding. But youdidn’t. You hardly eventried.”
She hadn’t, because no one had compared to Rayne. Truth was, a part of her had been waiting for him to come home.
“Besides,” Farring continued, “I couldn’t havepreservedyou, even if such a thing weren’t contrary to everything I believe. I had no idea how Rayne felt about you until he returned.”
Her heart stopped. “What did he tell you?”
“He didn’t need to tell me anything. You should have seen his face when you kissed that little boy in the churchyard. Pitiful thing. A man of his considerable strength and height, jealous of a boy no higher than his knee.”
“Stop. Just stop.” She waved her hands. “I don’twantto feel anything for Rayne.”
Farring nodded. “I’ve no doubt he wishesexactlythe same thing.”
Shock rippled through her body.
“Too bad.” Farring grasped his knees. “Love’s inconvenient.”
Inconvenient, painful, confusing as the heavens. She’d honestly believed Rayne was going to kiss her again. He’d focused on her lips—his expression taut. She’d dropped her defenses, willing, despite everything, to follow the strange, ardent fascination, and then, he…
Well, she’dthoughthe’d humiliated her on purpose. Another lesson of some aberrant sort. But what if he’d pulled away because he was as apprehensive of his feelings for her as she was unable to contain her feelings for him?
Farring picked up the soup tureen and snorted. “Just as I suspected.” He peered over his glasses. “Damselflies on one side. Dragonflies on the other.”
“I should know. I happen to like the pretty, winged predators. The tureen was my gift to Markham and Clarissa.”
He wrapped his arms around the bowl. “What else should you know?”
“Better than to meddle with Rayne or listen to you.”
“Now you sound like my father. Not a good thing, either. Sound patriarch he may be, but given to forgiveness? Never. Someday, I’ll tell you a story that will curdle your blood…but I digress.” He set aside the bowl. “Back to you. You cannot navigate life using other people’s mistakes—trust me, I know. You simply have to take chances and make your own. So, are you going to be brave, or are you just going to continue to busy yourself keeping ledgers on everyone around you so you don’t get hurt?”
She blinked away the burn in her eyes. “Don’t!I’m careful because Ihaveto be. You’ve no idea what it is to be a young, unmarried woman.Everyman is a danger.”
“You’re right. I apologize,” Farring said softly. “I went too far. Look, Jules, you’re bright. You’re clever. You’re kind, and you’re insightful. If you tell me again you don’t want Rayne, I will concede and leave you to your musings.” Farring sighed heavily. “But I can’t forget the way you were that day. You’re the one who vowed to make Rayne sorry.”
She snorted. “And so I did.”
“And so you did,” he repeated. “But you cannot make him as sorry as he’ll be if he permanently abandons his duty, his friends, and everything he could make of the privileges he’s been given.”
She sniffed, sent Farring a scorching glance beneath her lashes, then snatched his proffered handkerchief. “What advice would you give me if I admit Imightstill want him?”
“You’d be interested to know, about an hour ago, I took Miss Watson home, as she wasn’t feeling quite the thing. I also told Bromton I will take you there, too, once you are ready to leave.”
“Kind of you, but how is any of this related to Rayne?”
He glanced up. “On the ride to her cottage, I informed Miss Watson you changed your mind about staying with her and will, instead, be traveling to London with the caravan.”
“Farring!” she exclaimed in a whisper. “You had no right!”
“None at all,” he agreed. “But as a result of my impertinence,younow have options.” He held up a finger. “Option one—go back to London.”
“And listen to Horatia ceaselessly sigh over her betrothed? I think not.”
“My sister is rather besotted, I’m afraid. Option two…” He held up a second finger. “I take you to Miss Watson, tell her I was mistaken, and you rusticate here at Southford as you originally planned.”
She scrunched her brow. “I’m afraid to ask for option three.”
“You should be.” His gaze glittered. “Because option three involves you going after what you truly desire.”
