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Disbelief widened her eyes. “You are?”
“Aye.”
To his consternation, just when he thought he set his course for a friendly port, unhappiness returned to sap all the lovely vitality from her face. Her eyes lowered, and she buried her hands in her skirts. Too late. He’d seen how she trembled.
“I know what you’re doing,” she said in a toneless voice.
“Of course you do. I’m proposing.”
“Because you think you have to,” she mumbled. Instead of throwing herself into his arms, she marched past him toward the door. “And you don’t. Even if there’s talk about last night, it will die down when we treat each other the way we always have.”
“And how’s that?” He stepped in front of her to block her departure.
Bess regarded him with disfavor. “Like…like an earl and a humble tenant.”
He burst out laughing. “Och, what utter rot. You haven’t got a humble bone in your body, and if you’ve ever given a moment’s deference to my rank, I certainly missed it.”
Her voluptuous mouth firmed, and she crossed her arms. “Well, that’s how I intend to treat you in future. I’m sorry if I’ve been disrespectful. I won’t be disrespectful again.”
“Would you like to place a wee wager on that?”
She frowned, looking less self-righteous by the minute. “You’ve gone quite mad.”
His lips twitched. “That offer to treat me with appropriate deference didn’t last long.”
She didn’t smile. “I’m sorry, my lord.”
Last night she’d called him Rory. He vowed she would again before she left this house. “No, you’re not. And anyway, it’s true. I’ve been insane since the day you walked in and laid down the law.”
“I’m sorry for that, too,” she said sturdily.
He caught her hand. “Don’t be. If you hadn’t barged in, I’d have missed out on the last week, and that would be a crying shame.”
She glanced up at him without trying to pull free. “I’m so glad you’ve become part of the village. The mulled wine was a nice touch.”
He stifled a laugh. “I do have an occasional idea of my own, you know. In fact, I have the idea right now that you should say you’ll marry me. Then we can save those good people from standing about in the snow, wondering what we’re up to.”
She regarded him with such distress that he longed to take her into his arms. But some deep instinct told him to tread with care.
“You don’t have to do this.”
He sighed and tightened his grip on her hand. “I know I don’t. I want to marry you.”
“No, you don’t.”
He straightened to his full height and glared down at her as if she was an insubordinate gunner. “The devil, what maggot have you got in that busy mind of yours, my bonnie Bess?”
To his regret, she pulled away, her face drawn with a misery that made his stomach cramp in denial. Could he be wrong? Could all his hopes come to nothing?
“I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Too bad. Tell me why you’ve been wandering around all day like the ghost at the feast.” A horrible thought struck him. “Don’t tell me you’re ashamed of what we did?”
“Shouldn’t I be?” She raised despairing eyes to his.
He caught her shoulders. “No, blast it, you shouldn’t. You’re a lovely, ardent creature, and when desire is mutual, it’s natural to express it.”
Her lips trembled, and to his horror, her eyes glazed with tears. “But it wasn’t.”
