Page 56 of Just Imagine
She flushed. He was treating her as if she were nine years old and deliberately embarrassing her in front of their sophisticated guest.
“Go ask Sophronia to hold dinner until you’ve had time to change out of that dirty frock.” With a dismissive look, he turned to Veronica. “You’ll have to forgive my ward. She’s only recently graduated from finishing school. I’m afraid all her lessons haven’t yet sunk in.”
Kit’s cheeks burned with mortification, and angry words bubbled inside her. Why was he doing this? He didn’t care about soiled frocks and tangled hair. She knew that about him. He loved the outdoors like she did and had little patience for formality.
She fought to hold onto her temper. “I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me from dinner this evening, Mrs. Gamble. I, too, seem to have developed a headache.”
“A veritable epidemic.” Veronica’s voice was softly mocking.
Cain’s jaw set stubbornly. “We have a guest. Headache or not, I’ll expect you back downstairs in ten minutes.”
Kit choked on her rage. “Then I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed.”
“Don’t try to defy me.”
“Don’t issue orders you can’t enforce.” Somehow she summoned the self-control not to run from the room, but once she reached the hallway, she picked up her skirts and fled. As she approached the top of the stairs, she fancied she could hear the sound of Veronica Gamble’s laughter coming from behind her.
But Veronica wasn’t laughing. Instead, she was studying Cain with great interest and a small measure of sadness. So that was the way it was. Ah, well . . .
She’d hoped their relationship would move beyond friendship into intimacy. But now she saw it wasn’t meant to be, at least in the foreseeable future. She should have known. He was too magnificent a man not to be difficult.
She felt a flash of pity for his ward. For all her extravagant beauty, the young woman didn’t yet know her own mind, and she certainly didn’t know his. Kit was much too inexperienced to understand why he’d deliberately embarrassed her. But Veronica understood. Cain was attracted to the girl, and he didn’t like it. He was fighting his attraction by bringing Veronica here tonight, hoping that seeing the two women side by side would convince him he was drawn to Veronica instead of to Kit. But it wasn’t to be.
Cain had won this round. The young woman had barely managed to hold onto her temper. Still, Kit Weston was nobody’s fool, and Veronica had a feeling the game was far from over.
She tapped her fingernail on the upholstered arm of the settee and wondered if she should permit Cain to use her as a pawn in the struggle he was waging with himself. It was a foolish question, and it made her smile. Of course she’d permit it.
Life was dull here, and it wasn’t in her nature to be jealous of another woman over something as natural as sex. Besides, it was all so deliciously amusing.
“Your ward is high-spirited,” she said, just to stir the pot.
“My ward needs to learn submission.” He poured a glass of sherry for her and, with an apology, excused himself.
She heard him taking the stairs two a time. The sound excited her. It reminded her of the glorious arguments she and Francis used to have, arguments they sometimes fought with deliciously angry sex. If only she could see what was about to happen in the room upstairs . . .
She sipped at her sherry, more than prepared to wait them out.
Cain knew he was behaving badly, but he didn’t care. For weeks he’d been keeping himself away from her. As far as he could tell, he was the only single man in the community who wasn’t jumping to her tune. Now it was time they had a reckoning. He was just sorry Veronica had to be subjected to Kit’s rudeness.
And to his own.
But he wouldn’t dwell on that. “Open this door.”
Even as he rapped the panels with his knuckles, he knew he was making a mistake by coming up here after her. But if he let her defy him now, he’d lose any chance he had of keeping her under control.
He told himself this was for her own good. She was willful and stubborn, a danger to herself. Whether he liked it or not, he was her guardian, which meant he had a responsibility to guide her.
But he didn’t feel like a guardian. He felt like a man who was losing a struggle with himself.
“Go away!”
He twisted the knob and let himself in.
She stood by the window, the last of the sunlight casting her exquisite face into shadow. She was a wild, beautiful creature, and she tempted him beyond bearing.
As she turned, he froze in place. She’d been unbuttoning her dress, and the sleeves had fallen down on her shoulders so he could see the soft rounds of her breasts visible above her chemise. His mouth went dry.
She didn’t try to clutch the bodice together as a modest young woman should. Instead, she gave him glare for glare. “Get out of my room. You have no right to come charging in here.”
