He shrugged. “I’ve been busy.”
“Doing what?”
“Thinking.”
“Not naked horseback riding?”
His grin had a wolf in one corner of it and a court jester in the other. “Did you see?”
“No. I was visiting my family.”
“Is that why you look so displeased?”
Did she? She touched the space between her brows, found it dug into deep trenches. “If I am displeased it’s because I’ve been picked up and moved about without any consideration. Again.”
“How so?”
“Lady Chattaway wishes for some privacy, so she and Lord Brawly can?—”
“Ah, yes. I see.”
“I shouldn’t be here,” she said.
“Why not?”
Was he being purposefully obtuse? “Because I’m not an Ives. I’m the subject of your mother’s charity.”
“Is that what we’re calling matchmaking?” He grimaced. “Do you like this room?”
“It’s perfectly beautiful, but I shouldn’t be here!”
“Did you tell Lady Chattaway that?” he asked. “Or my mother? Did you refuse the offer or ask for other options?”
“No—”
“Hell, Tess, you have to say what you want.”
Why was he so angry with her? She’d done nothing wrong. “I’m in a precarious position. I cannot demand choices when I have none.”
“Well, you should.”
“You’re impossible.” She’d not known how it would be between them the next time they spoke, but she’d never imagined he’d irritate her so. There existed an unfinished tension between them after the stables, and she’d been avoiding him. She did not want to know if this irritation would fizzle out or… spark something else to life. Clearly it was going to be more like a raspberry wet and gross across her forearm. She did not stick out her tongue, but she did try to leave. Unfortunately, he filled the doorway, broad and immovable. “Move, if you please.”
“No.”
“You must!”
“Not until you tell me what you want.”
She rolled her eyes.
“No, Tessa. Do not shrug it off. Tell me what you want, even if you cannot tell anyone else.”
“Why is it so important to you?”
He shrugged. “It’s important toyou. Now, tell me.”
She wanted for her life to not have exploded.
