He wondered how she’d gleaned that bit of truth. Probably the same way he had her pegged for a bluestocking. All one had to do was listen. Hescratched his jaw with gloved fingers. He hadn’t shaved this morning. He hadn’t the time, and he’d used the last of his soap.
“I also know you think you are a bad sort,” she went on as if they were having a conversation. “You aren’t... but youthinkyou are.”
They’d reached the trees. It was a relief to be out of the sun. Earlier, he’d taken off his oilskin coat, rolled it up, and wore it over one shoulder. This coat with its deep pockets was everything to him. Better than a pack. He removed his hat and dabbed his brow with the back of a gloved hand as he whistled for Tamsyn. The taller meadow grasses shook and waved as the dog happily wormed her way to join them.
“You are ignoring me,” Elise said.
Kit ignored the accusation.
He caught sight of a trail and began following it. They had to be close to the road by now.
“All right,” she mused, “what else do I know about you? Oh, this is important. You are grumpy when you are hungry. You should have eaten my share of the strawberries I offered you.”
He should have. He’d refused because he believed she needed the food.
His stomach rumbled at the thought of them.
Elise heard it and smiled as if it gave her great pleasure to be right.
Kit stepped over a large tree that had fallen over the path. He offered his hand to help Elise. There was no way she could climb over it gracefully in her skirts. So, he lifted her up and over. Tamsyn had found a stick she liked and was waiting on the other side for him, her tail wagging.
He set Elise on her feet, threw the stick, and continued on. Elise skipped a step to keep up.
“Thank you for your help,” she said.
He grunted a response.
“You don’t like talking about yourself, do you?”
“Oh miracle of miracles, you finally understand,” Kit answered.
She made a little humming sound that could mean she agreed with him or disagreed. He couldn’t tell.
What he did know was that having his hands around her waist had felt good. This was not the first time he’d carried Elise. But this was the first time the little beast whined for her. He felt like slapping the damn thing to make it behave. Of course, that would be hurting himself.
Why had he gallantly promised to see her to Ireland?
“Here is something else I know,” she prefaced pleasantly as she drew up beside him on the path. “You snore.”
Kit came to an abrupt halt.“What?”
She took a step or two more before turning to him. “You snore,” she repeated as if it was simple, common knowledge.
“I donotsnore.”
He didn’t... or believed he didn’t. No one had ever told him he snored.
She winced as if she felt a bit sad for him, but did not retract her statement.
“I don’t,” he reiterated.
Elise pressed her lips together as if holding back words, and Kit had enough.
“Ireek, Isnore,” Kit complained. “You delight in cataloging my bad habits.”
Instead of remorse, her response was a laughter, the sound as light as dandelion fluff. It mingled with the dappled shade of the forest.
And made him feel humorless.
