“Give us a moment, Rosie,” Kit said.
She continued frowning while Kit ushered me toward the adjoining room.
We made our way into the corner beside the cookstove, as far as we could get from the living area. I turned to put my back to the wall and found Kit intimately close, smelling like smoke and iron and faintly of juniper. I swallowed against the sudden lump in my throat as I searched his face and stern expression.
“Rosie brought pecan pastries,” I said in a small voice.
“And the kittens,” he replied. “I saw.”
“She wants us to taste them,” I added. “The pastries. Not the cats.”
Peering around him, I checked to see if I could sneak a kiss without Rosie noticing. The doorframe between us blocked her from my view and, presumably, me from hers, so I hooked my fingers over the waistband of Kit’s trousers and gave a playful tug.
Kit grabbed my hand and pulled it loose, then returned it to my side.
“How have things been with Rosie lately?” he whispered.
I frowned. “Same as always. Why?”
He glanced over his shoulder before continuing. “It might be nothing, but it seems… interesting that she wanted to spend time alone with you.”
I shrugged off his concern. “We’re alone at her house all the time. Well, except when Tessa comes by. Or if her father’s home.”
“Mmhmm.” Kit nodded. “It’s just… She sat very close to you at the tavern when we ran across her there. She's always eager to keep your company. And she gives you a certain look, Pen. Haven’t you noticed?”
I leaned again, farther over this time, straining to see into the living area. I caught a glimpse of Rosie sitting on the couch, holding the black cat on her lap while curling its tail around her finger.
“She looks like Rosie,” I said.
I was still staring when Kit concluded, “I think she may fancy you.”
That called my attention fully to him. “What makes you think that?” I asked.
“Because I think I look at you much the same way.”
A smile quirked Kit’s lips, and I felt warm all over again. I was so distracted by how endearing he looked that his statement registered belatedly.
“She’s like my sister, Kit,” I replied. “She reminds me of home.”
Kit’s expression softened, and he brushed a lock of hair off my forehead. “And I think she rather likes having you atherhome. And ours. Alone.”
I thought back over my interactions with Rosie and certain comments her father had made. Even things Tessa had said came clearer when viewed in a different light. She’d called me Rosie’s beau at the tavern that night Kitsaid she sat so close to me. I hadn’t thought much of it—I didn’t think much ofanythingTessa said—but I felt suddenly abashed for not having considered it sooner.
“It’s not so hard to believe, is it?” Kit asked, still speaking softly. “I can’t be the only one who enjoys having you to myself. And you do spend a good deal of time with her. What else is a young lady to infer?”
“I don’t know,” I muttered.
When I looked up, Kit was studying my face. “Perhaps you could imagine what amanmight infer if he were invited to your house alone then.” He smirked. “Kittens notwithstanding.”
I didn’t want to imagine whatanyman might think or presume; I wanted to know something much more specific.
“What wouldyouinfer?” I asked.
Kit didn’t hesitate. “That you were trying to court me.”
The heat in my cheeks grew almost unbearable. He was so close, pressing in with his arm braced against the wall beside me.
I couldn’t look away again, so I held his gaze. “We’re in this house alone,” I murmured. “All the time.”
