“I can’t do this,” he said, getting to his feet.
He turned to help her, but she had already done the same. She stood there staring at him, confusion and hurt replacing the anticipation and arousal—though unfortunately the trust and thatotheremotion were still there.
“Why not?”
There was nothing accusatory in her tone, but he felt it all the same. Or maybe it was his guilt at work. His mouth hardened. “It isn’t right.”
“Because you still think of yourself as my guardian? I told you, I’m a twenty-year-old woman; I’m capable of making my own decisions. You aren’t taking advantage of me.”
“That’s not it, damn it,” he snapped. Or not all of it.
“Then what is it?”
He dreaded telling her and wished it hadn’t happened like this, but she needed to know what he planned for her. He couldn’t avoid the discussion any longer. He told himself to stop being such a damned coward. As her guardian, or stand-in father, or whatever the hell he was, it was well within his duty to do what he’d done. “I’ve made arrangements.”
She eyed him hesitantly. “What kind of arrangements?”
“For your future.” She stiffened, but he continued. “I’ve been remiss in my duty. Had I been aware of your true age, I would have begun discussions years ago. But perhaps it is better that I waited, as the perfect suitor has come forward.”
“The perfectwhat?”
Her shock and outrage were not limited to her tone—nay, they shook from every part of her body, from the combative stance, to the fists tightly balled at her sides, to the dark fury blaring at him from her eyes.
“The reeve’s son, Farquhar, has asked for your hand in marriage; I have given him my permission.”
She took a step back, her face white. The look of stark betrayal made him wish for a return of the shock and outrage.
She continued to stare at him for a long time. It wasn’t easy, but he restrained himself from turning away or shuffling his feet. Why that minor feat felt like a major victory, he didn’t know.
“You have it all arranged, then?”
The dull stoniness of her tone turned that urge to shuffle into an urge to squirm. Damn it, he knew she wasn’t going to like it. But he hadn’t anticipated being made to feel like an ogre—and a traitorous one, to boot.
He raked his hair with his fingers. Christ, this was exactly what he’d hoped to avoid. He was doing this for her own good. She might not see it now, but she would.
“I told Farquhar that if you agreed, he could announce the betrothal after the Hogmanay feast.”
He filled her in on the position awaiting Farquhar at Ballock Castle, and his future prospects as steward. She listened expressionlessly, as his enthusiastic presentation of the lad took on the characteristics of a farmer presenting his prized bull at market.
“If I agree?” she repeated. “Do you mean I am to have some say in the matter? How very considerate of you.”
She didn’t bother to hide her sarcasm; it dripped coldly from her voice like droplets of ice. “Of course, you have a say, damn it. I want you to be happy.”
Those big brown eyes turned on him as if he were crazed—which was exactly what she made him. “Yet you arranged all this without letting me know what you intended. I assume that is what all the messengers have been for?”
He acknowledged it with a nod. “There will be other men at the feast. If there is someone else you would rather wed…?”
“There is no one,” she said flatly. “As I told you, I have no wish to marry anyone else, but apparently my wishes—my feelings—mean nothing to you. Have you been planning this since you returned?” He must have done a piss-poor job of masking his guilt because she said, “Of course you have. How eager you must have been to finally have the chance to be rid of me.”
He muttered a curse. “Damn it, Cate. It isn’t like that.”
“Isn’t it? You took me in, but you never wanted the responsibility. I knew that, but I thought…I thought…” Her voice caught. “I thought this was myhome, but you were just waiting for me to be old enough to marry off.”
The way she was looking at him made his chest burn, but he couldn’t turn away. He almost reached for her. Almost. But he feared what would happen if he touched her again. How easily comfort could lead to something else.
“It is your home,” he said gently. He just couldn’t give her the family she wanted to replace her lost one. “But now that my mother is gone, with you and John alone…it wouldn’t be right for you to stay here.”
For one moment he thought she might slap him. “How dare you insinuate…I told you, John is like a brother to me.”
