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“Well, then you must at least stop looking at Lady Emeline like a dog at a sausage.”
“Am I?”
“Yes,” she said with exasperation. “I expect you to start drooling at any moment. It’s not nice.”
He turned his head and focused on her face. “Is it that bad?”
“Probably not to others, but I’m your sister. I see things.”
“Yes, you do.” He studied her a moment. The yellow of her gown seemed to make her shine. He suddenly realized that his sister was probably among the most lovely of the ladies assembled here. “Are you enjoying the party? I haven’t asked.”
“It’s...interesting.” She looked down, avoiding his eyes. “I was afraid at first that no one would talk to me, but that hasn’t been the case. The other ladies have been nice. Mostly.”
He frowned. “Who hasn’t been nice to you?”
She flicked her hand impatiently. “No one. It doesn’t matter. Don’t fuss.”
“I’m your brother; I’m supposed to fuss,” he said, trying to make it a jest.
His words must not have come off well, because she didn’t smile. Instead she just gazed at him quizzically.
He inhaled and tried again. “I’ve noticed that you’ve been keeping company with Mr. Green.”
“Ye-es.” Rebecca drew the word out, her voice cautious. Her head was down-bent, but she darted a glance at that gentleman now. Mr. Green was among the card players in the corner.
Sam felt like an ass. Rebecca had asked him to play cards. She must want him to give her an excuse to approach Green. He smiled down at her and extended his arm. “Shall we go play cards?”
But she squinted up at him. “I thought you didn’t want to play?”
“Perhaps I’ve changed my mind.”
She sighed as if he’d said something incredibly simpleminded. “Samuel, you don’t want to play cards.”
“Yes, but I thought you wanted to play cards,” he said slowly. He felt as if he were searching for a hidden path. Or perhaps that he’d wandered off the path altogether.
“I did, but not for the reason you think. Have you heard Mr. Green’s laugh?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then,” she said as if that decided the matter. She clasped her hands together as if bracing herself. “I heard Mr. Craddock was dead when you went to question him?”
He looked at her warily. “He was.”
“I’m sorry. I suppose his widow knew nothing?”
“No. We’ll have to wait until our return to London to continue the quest.” And then he’d corner Thornton. Over Rebecca’s shoulder, he saw Emeline turn and stroll from the room. Dammit! “Excuse me.”
“She’s fled again, I suppose,” Rebecca said without even looking over her shoulder.
He bent and brushed a kiss across her temple, just where her dark hair was pulled back. “You are much too perceptive for a sister.”
“I love you, too,” she muttered.
He paused and looked at her, startled. She was a grown woman, his sister, and he didn’t always understand her, but he did love her. He grinned down into her worried eyes.
And then he was out the door, on the hunt.
THIS WAS THE problem with engaging in an affaire de coeur with a colonial: he obviously didn’t know when the thing was over.
