Her jaw clenched. “To be clear, that wasn’t the question asked.”
What exactly had Mr. Howard asked? My breathing stopped. Something hot rolled over my chest, the meaning behind her insistence about the wording of Mr. Howard’s question and her discomfort around it suddenly clear. “Someone kissed you? Without your leave?”
Instead of her lip quivering or a tearful nod, she once again surprised me with a wave of her hand. “Oh, don’t be overly dramatic about it. It was pleasant enough. I just wanted you to understand it wasn’t I who kissed him.”
“Then why were you so ... so evasive about it?”
She blinked her widened eyes as if in confusion. “Was I?”
She most definitely was. “Yes.”
Her graceful shoulder, the one that carried a brush-like mark just below it, lifted in a shrug. “I was surprised by Mr. Howard’s audacity, I suppose.”
She was still hiding something. “I don’t see you as a woman who is surprised often.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Her eyes made another furtive glance about the room, almost as if she was looking for someone in particular. She brought her eyes back to mine. “You’ve managed to surprise me several times.”
I sensed some truth to her words, but also a deeper emotion hidden behind that truth. I ignored the tiny flick of pleasure the thought of surprising her sent down my spine. She’d obviously only said it as a distraction. Her words said one thing, but her actions said another. “Is he here?”
I didn’t need to specify which man I meant. Her face jerked back slightly in surprise and her hand went back to her skirt and balled it.
Once again she answered with silence. But I couldn’t read what she meant by it. I studied her face, her neck, that spot on her shoulder and her fist in her skirt. She had gone slightly pale and stiffened.
Perhaps she was simply done being questioned. I had no right to pester her about her life.
Or perhaps, once again, no answer was an answer and one of the men in this room had kissed her. Who, though? Brookhouse was a rascal at times, but he was a gentleman. The thought of Davis being flippant with a woman was preposterous. Besides, no man who served under General Blackwell would dare lay a finger, let alone a mouth, on his daughter.
My gut twisted. That left only Vincent Howard.
I closed my eyes and concentrated on breathing. His smirk when he’d asked her—the way he’d caught her eye. Hot rage rolled from my chest down deep into my stomach. If that suave blackguard had kissed her, then he’d also set her up for embarrassment with his question. Jaw clenched, I turned my head.
Mr. Howard had taken the seat Miss Blackwell had vacated and was stepping his fingers across the table toward Harriet’shand. I spun on my heel, uncertain what I was going to do, but there was no question of allowing Mr. Howard another moment in the company of either Harriet or Miss Blackwell.
They were cousins, for heaven’s sake. Did the man have no integrity?
I’d only taken two furious steps when a hand caught the cuff of my sleeve. The shock of Miss Blackwell’s gloved fingers connecting with the skin above my wrist jolted me to a stop.
“Wait,” she said. “Don’t be foolish.”
I turned on her, grabbed both of her forearms and marched her farther down the bookshelf where we would be less noticed. “Foolish?” I hissed. “That man has toyed with you, then flaunted it in front of me, my friends, and your cousin, and you expect me to simply ignore that? When he is at this moment perhaps planning something similar for Harriet?”
The soft skin of her cheek rippled when she clenched her jaw. “I have asked you not to call her that.”
I huffed out a breath. “That is the least of my concerns at the moment.”
“Stop being so concerned. You're wrong. Mr. Howard has never touched me. He flirts, yes, but only in a charming and harmless way.”
“Well,” I said darkly. “Davis and Brookhouse would never do such a thing.”
“I agree.”
“Miss Blackwell, I don’t understand what you are trying to say.”
“I’m not trying tosayanything. I’m trying to stop you from defending my honor when you don’t even understand the situation—a situation you are making a thousand times worse by forcibly pulling me into this corner and speaking so freely to me.”
I pulled my hands away from her so quickly you’d think her arms had been on fire. She was right. We were in view of most of the party, and I was acting a fool. I ran a hand down my face. “Why didn’t you simply answer my question and tell me the man wasn’t at this house party?”
The silent stillness of the woman in front of me made me pull my hand away from my eyes. I’d guessed wrong again. But if it was none of the younger men, that only left ...
