“Where you stand,” he repeated, and even though they were out in the open with the grass beneath their feet and the sky stretching above their heads, he could have sworn he felt the walls closing in.
“Yes. What are your intentions in regards to our relationship?”
“Relationship.”
A line of annoyance formed between her brows. “If you keep parroting back what I’ve just told you, I’m going to feed you a cracker.”
“We…we do nothavea relationship, Miss Thorncroft. You are…you are my guest. And, I suppose, in a distant sort of way, we may even consider ourselves family. Of a sort. Fifth cousins, thrice removed.” He shoved his hands into the pockets sewn onto the rear of his breeches. “My lapses in judgment notwithstanding, that is where we stand.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders stiffened. “I see.”
Bollocks.
This–this right here–was precisely why hedidn’twant a romantic entanglement with Evelyn Thorncroft. Brynne’s opinion on marrying for love be damned.
Lady Martha would never dare question their relationship, or where they stood. She’d be happy enough just being his wife, and bearing his child, and joining him for tea on occasion. As it should be. As any man in his right mind wouldwantit to be.
Except he wasn’t in his right mind, was he? Hadn’t been, ever since he’d glanced across the ballroom and seen the most magnificent creature that God had ever seen fit to create.
“I don’t…” He paused. Took a breath. “I don’t want to injure your feelings.”
“Don’t you?” Evie asked, canting her head to the side.
“No, of course not.”
“Then you’ve an amusing way of showing it.” Her eyes glittered. “Should we make a vow not to have another encounter, or save ourselves the breath?”
Impertinent vixen.
“What happened in the stables–”
“Shall never happen again,” she finished. “So you’ve said before.”
He scowled. “This time I mean it.”
“I’m sure.”
“Ido,” he insisted. “With the other guests soon to join us, these…er…”
“Lapses in judgment?” she said icily.
Not, he admitted, his best choice of words.
“Yes. I mean no.” What was it about Evie that tangled his tongue in knots? “I mean–”
“You mean you wouldn’t want your precious Lady Martha to catch you fornicating with an American.” Her smile was sweet, and all the more sharp because of it. “I understand.”
He gritted his teeth. “If you’d let me finish a bloody sentence–”
“It’s growing late, and I have to change for the receiving dinner. I will see you inside, my lord.” She brushed past him, and he didn’t try to stop her.
He wouldn’t have known what to say if he did.
Chapter Eleven
Evie felt horriblyguilty. Or shehadfelt horribly guilty, until Weston had absolved her of all remorse regarding her deceitful plan to marry him by uttering four hurtful words she wasn’t soon to forget.
My lapses in judgment.
