Page 71 of Return to Satterthwaite Court

He caught her by the arm before she could take another step. His fingers curved around her, pressing gently⁠—achingly gently—into her bare flesh. “Wait.”

Her breath stopped. So did her heart for an instant.

She marshaled her senses. “You needn’t humor me, sir.”

“When have I ever done so?”

“You might have been doing it all along. Being gentlemanly and polite—”

“Hardly.” His hand remained around her upper arm, holding her fast, holding her close. He moved the pad of his thumb over her bare skin in a slow caress.

Butterflies swarmed in her stomach.

Drat him!

She might have known how tender he would be from the way he’d settled Ember in Tiverton or how he’d calmed that crazed little dog in Bond Street.

But Kate was no flighty horse or feral dog to be pacified thus.

“It’s probably the only reason you’re here now,” she said petulantly. “Out of politeness.”

Reluctant humor glinted briefly in his eyes. “Now you’re just being contrary.”

“I’m not. I’m being logical. It stands to reason—”

“Kate.” His voice deepened with gruff sincerity. “I’ve never in my life been anywhere I don’t wish to be.”

She gave him a doubtful look. “Even here at Beasley Park?”

“Even here in this room.”

She stilled. It was the closest he’d ever come to admitting his feelings for her. “Then why do you…” Her voice trailed off as he lifted his hand from her arm to cradle her cheek.

A breath trembled out of her.

Oh, heavens.

It took an effort to keep her countenance. To refrain from blushing or swooning or pressing her face into the warm curve of his palm.

“Why do I what?” he prompted.

She swallowed hard. “Why do you always appear indifferent to me?”

His mouth hitched in a faint, apologetic smile. “An excess of caution, I suppose.”

“Because you’re afraid I’ll trap you into marriage?”

“It’s you who’d be trapped.” He stroked her cheek. “You’re young, Kate, and you’re rather magnificent. You deserve a future as bright and exciting as you are. Not a dull, dreary life in the country with me.”

“Who says life with you would be dull and dreary?”

“I do. My adventures are over, sweetheart. I’m ready to retire into a quiet, comfortable obscurity. But your life is just beginning.”

Sweetheart.

Kate’s pulse leaped. She was so thrilled by the endearment that she little heard the rest of it. “You’re not that much older than me. You’re only eight and twenty.”

“I’ll be nine and twenty soon.”