Page 2 of Courting the Country Miss

He made a tsking sound. “Since when won’t you discuss your thoughts with me?”

Long-suppressed anger roiled up inside her. “Since you ruined a duke’s daughter and forced my intended to wed her to save you from a duel!”

Tristan stared as if she’d slapped him, blinked, then hunched over and rested his elbows on his knees.

She turned away, her anger fading at the obvious sign that she’d hurt him. “Pray, forgive me. I didn’t mean that.”

“Of course you meant it. All of it.” He pushed out a breath. “I’ve known it all along. You’ve barely said a word to me since then. I deserve your hatred.”

“I could never hate you, Tristan.”

“Then you’re kinder than I deserve. I made an enormous mistake on so many levels. I should have dueled her brother and spared all of you the heartache.”

“No!” she almost shouted. Catching herself, she softened her voice. “No, you most certainly should not have dueled. You might have been injured or killed, or done the same to her brother.” She affected a tone her mother would have used. “Perhaps what you ought to be telling yourself is that you should never have lured an innocent out to a secluded garden.”

“How could I have known some of London’s biggest gossips would have a sudden need to go for a walk?” He trailed off. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have been alone with her.”

No, he most certainly should not have coaxed a gently bred lady out for a moonlit kiss. No young lady should be unchaperoned in the company of a known libertine such as Tristan.

She halted that line of thought. No need to agonize over the past. Tristan had the wisdom to learn from his mistakes, she hoped. As her life-long friend slumped, clearly so full of regret, she had to say something. “It all worked out for the best.”

“Except you still hate me.”

She attempted to laugh lightly but it sounded as forced as an old key in a rusty lock. “I don’t hate you. I haven’t been avoiding you—I’ve been in Suffolk helping my sister Luciana with her new baby.”

He said nothing, his usual smile absent. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Tish. I’d only pursued Elizabeth as a flirtation, an interesting diversion. I never dreamed it would go that far, to feel…” He shrugged. “A mistake in many ways, all of it.”

Had Tristan formed a true attachment for Elizabeth? Leticia reached for the brother-sister-like banter they’d used so much of their lives. “Yes, well, the last several years, you’ve had a terrible time behaving as a gentleman and have taken a great many things too far.”

He feigned outrage. “I’m always a gentleman.”

She opened her eyes in mock wide-eyed innocence. “Since when is the word rake synonymous with gentleman?”

“Oh, you mean a gentleman by behavior and not by birth? Well, now, that’s another matter.” A touch of that familiar, teasing smile tugged at his expressive mouth, a mouth with full, kissable lips so like his brother’s, a mouth Tristan had probably used on dozens of women. How could two brothers be so alike in appearance and yet so different in behavior?

Unable to keep up the banter, Leticia turned her knees toward him. “What happened to that sweet, dreamy boy who loved poetry and clouds? You didn’t used to be so dissipated.”

Some inner pain passed over his expression so quickly that she might have imagined it. His grin flashed in the near darkness. “Merely living well, Tish.”

“Men can live well without becoming debauched.”

His mouth pulled to one side. “Yes, well, my dear brother is perfect enough for the both of us.”

“So, since you’ll never reach Richard’s level of perfection, you’ll be the perfect roué?”

He adopted a Byronic pose. “But of course.”

His fears of not measuring up to Richard didn’t touch that inner pain she glimpsed earlier. What secret did he hide? Had it been there all the time?

“Is it because you dislike women?”

He choked. “How can you say that after calling me dissipated, a rake, and a roué?”

“I’m not suggesting you don’t like to be in a woman’s arms, so to speak.” She cleared her throat while she blushed with such heat that she wished for a fan. “But no man who cares for the heart or sensibilities of a woman would use her in such a casual manner.”

“Trust me, none of the women I use, as you say, are innocent, or pretend to have true feelings for me. None of their hearts are involved.”

She let out a noise of disgust. “So it’s meaningless to you.”