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“Yes, I'm sure he would. He's the sort to take responsibility for everyone, isn't he?”
James nodded.
“But surely he realizes now that it wasn't his fault.”
“In his head, perhaps, but not in his heart.”
There was a long pause while they both stared at the ground. When Caroline finally spoke, her voice was soft and unnaturally tentative. “Do you really think he thinks I look like her?”
James shook his head. “No. And you don't look like her. Marabelle was quite blond, actually, with pale blue eyes and—”
“Then why did you say—”
“Because it's rare to meet a woman of such spirit.” When Caroline didn't say anything, James grinned and added, “That was a compliment, by the way.”
Caroline twisted her lips into something that was halfway between a grimace and a wry smile.
“Thank you, then. But I still don't see why he's being such a beast.”
“Consider the situation from his view. First he thought you were a traitor, the very breed of vermin who'd killed Marabelle. Then he found himself in the position of your protector, which can only remind him of how he failed his fiancée.”
“But he didn't fail her!”
“Of course he didn't,” James replied. “But he doesn't know that. And furthermore, it's quite obvious he finds you rather fetching.”
Caroline blushed and was immediately furious with herself for doing so.
“That, I think,” James said, “is what scares him the most. What if, horror of horrors, he were to fall in love with you?”
Caroline didn't see that as the worst horror in the world, but she kept the thought to herself.
“Can you even count how many ways he'd think he was betraying Marabelle? He could never live with himself.”
She didn't know what to say in reply, so she just pointed to a hole in the ground and said, “Put the plant there.”
James nodded. “You won't tell him of our little chat?”
“Of course not.”
“Good.” Then he did as she asked.
