Percy shook his head at their ridiculous farce. Must have been the lack of oxygen to his lungs because he matched her lunacy. “Well, I refuse to be thechas-te. We both know I’d never play it credibly.”
“I thought this wasn’t the theatre.”
“I don’t know what this is!” Percy threw his arms wide. “It’s the middle of the night, I’m not wearing boots, and you just confessed your dishonorable intentions if I’m not hallucinating. What am I supposed to think?” How could he stop from hoping?
She huffed, her arms crossing over her chest. “That you can’t wait to see me again tomorrow.”
Percy rubbed his temple. He’d lost feeling in his toes five minutes ago and neither of them seemed coherent enough to talk plainly. She was overly tired too. That must be the reason she was here. A good night’s sleep and she’d regret reaching out her hand.
He turned on his heel, suddenly not sure he could manage the next twelve hours. “I’m going to bed.” There was little concern for her wellbeing on the way home. The madwoman could take on hungry animals, unfortunate poachers, and blasted tree roots in her current state.
“You can’t gonow.” She traversed the root-lined floor with little trouble—proving him right—and came nose to chest with him. “I’ll have your answer, sir.”
“What answer?” He glanced around, certain he’d suffered food poisoning from dinner and was even now in his bed in the throes of fever. “You didn’t ask any bloody questions.”
She shook her head. “The question was implied.”
This must have been why Hamish and Renard had turned to politics and charity. Nothing seemed complicated after standing toe to toe with a woman.
“Take mercy on me,” he said. “What question am I to answer?”
“Will I see you tomorrow?”
“Do you want to see me tomorrow?”
“Don’t answer a question with a question.”
“Yes, fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He paused. “If you wish?”
“When?”
“What?”
“When will I see you?”
Percy held his head. “Dawn. Before the rooster crows. Before the dairyman.” Nowhewas babbling.
“Don’t use that tone. No one is forcing you to visit.”
Percy dropped the charade. “Danny, you don’t need to do this.” The mere fact she was here to mend their friendship after what he’d subjected her to was too much. “You needn’t play the martyr. I can never make up for what happened today, and you should feel no obligation to continue our acquaintance based on the circumstances. We are neighbors. Obviously, avoiding each other is out of the question, but we can limit our exposure. Take turns excusing ourselves from the obligatory events.”
The words burned, and the burn lingered, leaving Percy’s insides little better than a melting pot of revulsion and regret.
“You don’t wish to be friends any longer?” she asked.
Percy studied her in the dark, convinced the shadows were the reason her expression looked fallen. “I didn’t say that.”
Her gaze lifted and the moonlight caressed her face. “Which is it, Percy? You’re either so disgusted with my reaction in the alley that you wish to be rid of me, or you can overlook my behavior this afternoon and we may continue as we have been.”
What the hell was she talking about? Percy blinked down at her, and because it bore vocalizing... “What the hell are you talking about?” She couldn’t thinkshe’ddone anything wrong? “If you mean your screaming, I thought it ingenious.”
Her brows furrowed. “Screaming? Who said anything about screaming?”
“You did.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Woman!” Percy grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her gaze to meet his. “Speak plainly, Danny. What am I to find so heinous that I would walk away?” The idea was laughable.
