Page 88 of Courting the Country Miss

“And Elizabeth. She and I hatched this plan together, and it would never have reached this point without her.” Did he imagine her voice grew unsteady?

He wrapped his fingers around hers, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand.

She looked down at their hands. “That’s distracting, you know.”

“Is it?” Surely a good sign.

Her eyes locked with his and she nodded. Her pupils dilated. She swallowed. Moistened her lips.

Leticia’s feminine, passionate reaction to his touch warmed him with unholy pleasure. Good thing they were in an open carriage or he might be tempted to cast off his determination to woo Leticia properly, and kiss her until she pledged herself to him alone.

She removed her hand from his. The absence of her touch hit him like a cold stream. Oh wait. He looked up as more rain hit his face.

“We’d best raise the canopy,” she said.

Surprised she’d make such a suggestion, he stared at her. “We can’t do that; it would turn the barouche into a closed coach. It would ruin your reputation.”

She let out a huff of exasperation. “Tristan, it’s raining. Concessions can be made.”

As if in reply, the heavens opened up, and rain drove down on them. Rain fell in torrents and blew across the street in sheets.

Still, he shook his head. “I won’t have anyone call into question your purity.”

“So, you’ll get drenched—and I will, as well?” She stared at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“If anyone saw us hiding behind a canopy, they could claim I’d compromised you.”

Her expression changed from incredulous to hurt to anger. “Oh, that would be terrible, wouldn’t it, with no one to save you from having to marry me the way Richard saved you from having to marry Elizabeth!”

Tristan rocked back. “The Duke of Pemberton refused to allow me to marry his daughter and insisted on Richard.”

As he spoke, his anger grew. How could Leticia bring that up again? The entire episode had been a nightmare for everyone concerned. It had been a miracle that Richard and Elizabeth had found happiness together considering the circumstances that facilitated their marriage. To think that Leticia still blamed him…the thought opened an old wound and poured in salt.

She folded her arms and glared at her feet while her clothes and bonnet went from water-spattered to drenched.

The coachmen cleared his throat. “Sir.” He handed back an enormous black umbrella.

“My thanks.” Tristan opened it and held it over them both, although they were already soaked. Leticia retrieved a handkerchief from her reticule and wiped her nose.

He drew two steadying breaths. “How many ways must I apologize for the fiasco with Elizabeth?”

She shook her head. “You don’t.”

“Then why are you so angry?” When had she become so short-tempered?

She sniffed and her lip trembled.

“Leticia? Are you crying?”

“No.”

As he peered at her face, tears fell from her eyes and streaked her cheeks. The sight hit him like a punch. “Tish?”

He should have raised the hood and spared them both the argument, but he had a feeling they argued over more than the rain hood.

Though tempted to put an arm around her, he settled for sliding his hand down her arm to her hand. He tried to put a teasing note into his voice. “You know, if you don’t explain yourself to me, I might be tempted to think you want me to ruin you.”

She let out a scoff.