“Need? What need?” he asked.
“You told me youneededme,” she replied swiftly, heat entering her voice as though a fire had been stoked within her once more. A very different sort of fire.
“I do. I cannot go to this dinner alone. The Threnthorpes are damnably holy. They’ve made that abundantly clear. I must be married.”
“So… you needed me to impress the Threnthorpes and secure your business arrangement?” she repeated slowly, voice rising and hands tense against his chest.
“Yes,” he shrugged, mirroring her tone. “Why is that so difficult to understand? It is not the only...”
“Stop!” she cried out.
Caerleon was still half a mile distant.
“Stop? No. Do you want to walk?”
“Yes. I want to walk.”
“Well, we do not have time for a stroll. There is barely time to bathe and dress before we must be in the carriage. Can we not discuss this later?”
Why on earth was she being so difficult all of a sudden?
“Let me off this horse at once!” she cried, shoving hard against his chest.
He reined in the animal. Catherine slid from the saddle, brushed at her skirts, and began to stride towards the house. Gideon spurred the horse after her, keeping pace.
“Devil take it, will you tell me what is wrong this time?” he demanded.
She shook her head, arms folded neatly beneath her breasts. Her mouth was a tight line, eyes intent on their destination.
Finally, he spurred ahead of her, reversed his position, strafed the horse, and blocked her path. His ankle throbbed, and this, combined with her inexplicable behaviour, set sparks of frustration flying.
First an accusation about my rifling through her correspondence. Now flying off the handle because I did not tell her about a dinner engagement!
Catherine came to a halt but refused to look at him. He steered the horse in front of her, but she turned away each time.
“Will you speak to me?” he sighed, massaging his temples.
“Can you not deduce what is wrong?” she hissed. “On the surface, you look to be an intelligent man.”
He gaped at her, seething with irritation at the game she seemed so intent on playing.
“I thank you for the compliment, my dear, but my academic prowess does not extend to the knowledge of a female’s mind. Now, speak to me straight or not at all—”
“Not at all then!” she spat back.
Gideon reined back the horse and spurred it away. He did not look back.
Is this sabotage? She seeks to undermine me by thwarting my relationship with the Threnthorpes. Is she behind those letters?
His mind whirled as he reached Caerleon and tossed the reins to a stable hand. He stormed into the house, instantly forgoing hisearlier discovery of how far a kind word and a smile could go. When he reached his chambers, he tore off his coat and hurled it across the room. Gough appeared belatedly at the door, catching the coat in time as he entered.
“Not now, Gough! Am I a babe in arms that I cannot dress myself?” he roared.
This is what comes from trust. This is what comes of weakness. My father was a brute, but he knew that a man needed to be strong—and attachment is anathema to strength.
He dressed as though he loathed every garment, stressing stitches with the force with which he thrust the fabric upon his body. In the mirror amid the chaos, his eyes caught on something behind him.
Fresh letters on the bureau.
