“He’s all wrong for you.”
Her temper rose. “And what do you know about it? You always said marriage was for fools.”
“I was wrong.”
His solemn words made her swing around and gape at him in disbelief. “You? Settle down? Give up your rakish ways? I don’t believe it.”
He shrugged. “It’s true. The war has changed me. It’s helped me put things in perspective.”
“You really think you could be happy with just one woman for the rest of your life?”
“The right woman, yes. Absolutely.”
Kitty’s heart plunged to the depths. The right woman. Of course. Not her.
“What is it to you who I marry, anyway?” she managed, turning away from him. “You have no right to meddle in my affairs. You’re no blood relation, nor am I your ward.”
“Thank God,” he said, fervently. He made a frustrated sound at the back of his throat. “I’m looking out for your best interests. As a friend.”
“I don’t need your interference.”
He let out a slow, controlled breath. “I made a promise to Andrew, before our very first battle. I swore that if anything happened to him, I would protect you.”
Humiliation made her cheeks burn. “I don’t want the advice of a man who’s only helping me out of some misplaced sense of duty. I didn’t ask for your protection. I don’t want it.”
“That’s not why I’m doing it,” he said crossly.
“You see me as an annoying little sister.”
“That’s not true. Believe me, if I thought so once, I most assuredly do not see you that way now.”
She couldn’t keep the bitterness and sarcasm from her tone. “Oh really? And how do you see me?”
He took a step closer and the hint of his warm body and woodsy cologne sent her senses reeling.
“As a woman with a clever brain and a witty tongue,” he said. “As someone with an inquiring mind and a dry sense of humor. You are kind, and loyal, and passionate.”
Kitty was shocked into silence.
“And beautiful,” he added. “You deserve far better than Charles Willingham.”
Misery bloomed in her chest. He sounded so sincere. But she wasn’t beautiful enough or clever enough to tempt him, was she?
She reached forward and plucked the basket from his unresisting grip. “Just leave me alone, James Cashell.”
Kitty’s head was pounding as she skirted the lawn, avoiding the groups playing games. James called her name as she slipped around the side of the house, but she ignored him and quickened her pace. She entered the kitchen gardens.
“Miss Worth!”
She turned as Charles’s cultured tones hailed her. She bobbed a hasty curtsey and his lips turned up in amusement as he took in her basket and slightly disheveled appearance.
“Why, Miss Worth, you look charming!” he laughed. “Like Marie Antoinette playing dairymaid.”
“I’ve been to get some honey,” she explained with a wry smile.
“With Lord Leighton,” he added mischievously. “So I saw.” His laughing blue eyes held a hint of question and—dare she say it—jealousy?
“He’s just an old family friend,” she said, and immediately felt guilty.
