Chapter Sixteen
Heathcliff paced the length of his bedchamber, waiting until the last moment to head downstairs for dinner.
He knew the folly of it, yet he hadn’t been able to restrain the words that had tumbled forth. Filtering the space between his mind and his mouth had always been difficult, and that was certainly the case this afternoon.
What had he been thinking?
Not ten minutes before, he had sworn off the chit, reminding himself of her duplicity. Even if it weren’t entirely her fault, he still held it partially against her character. But when he’d seen her, his resentment faded like a highland mist. She practically glowed as she sat with Lucas and her sister.
He was taken aback as he considered just how much bravery it took to take such a leap of faith.
Faith that ended up being placed in him.
Which he’d shot to hell when he kissed her, and wasn’t even gentlemanly enough to regret it.
Rather, when he was asked the question about his estate, his mind immediately leaped to the pond, where she’d ignited his intrigue.
Then the blasted woman had to mention the stables.
He’d nearly choked.
It had taken all his self-control to turn away and somehow save his resolve.
As weak as it may be at the moment.
He hadn’t looked back at her till he was assured of his impassive expression. Lucas and Liliah had left shortly after, promising to return in a few days.
Which meant that for dinner tonight, it would just be Miss Miranda, Miss Iris, and himself.
Last night’s dinner conversation had started the whole fiasco. He wasn’t holding out hope for this evening’s to be any better. Half of him wanted to request a plate sent to his study, but his damned pride wouldn’t allow such a cowardly act.
No.
He would dine with the ladies.
He would ignore the sparkling intellect of Miss Miranda.
He would eat his meal and be done with the whole thing.
Surely she would understand, now that the truth had come to light?
Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew his watch and frowned at the time.
He couldn’t delay any longer, as much as he wished he could.
The door opened silently, and he strode down the hall with purpose, taking the stairs downward and entering the parlor, where they were to congregate before dinner.
“Good evening,” he said as he entered the room. The ladies nodded their greeting, and he swore he could have heard crickets fill the awkward silence.
Miss Iris cleared her throat.
The proverbial crickets started up once more, and he cast his gaze about the room in an effort to break the damned silence with something intelligent. Of their own accord, his eyes darted to Miss Miranda. His gaze narrowed at the slight twitch of her lips. Then he remembered last night. She had initiated the sparkling dinner conversation, yet here, when her talents would be most welcome, she remained silent.
And if his suspicions were correct, she was doing it on purpose.
The minx.
He almost allowed a smile to slip through his control, but he cast his gaze away from her sparkling eyes and turned instead to Miss Iris. “I trust you had a good day?” he asked.
