Page 9 of The Risk of Rogues
“That ought to be obvious,” said Hart in his endearing rumble of a voice. “You told me yesterday that I probably forgot you the moment I left for India. I’m trying to prove that I did not. Even after eleven years, I remember that you used to collect feathers for your hats, and that peacocks were your favorites.”
She fought the urge to swoon. It was merely a feather. It meant nothing.
She curled her fingers in her attempt not to stroke it. “Usedto collect them. I—I outgrew that.”
He laughed. “You clearly didn’t outgrow the hats. And I know you haven’t outgrown your love of peacock feathers. So why lie about it?”
That startled her into glancing up at him. Oh, Lord, that was a mistake. He looked good, probably far better than she did this morning. His hair was tousled just so, and he had dressed as a fine gentleman, but with a bright yellow cravat to show that he had some daring in him. “Why would you assume I lied?”
“I saw your face light up when you caught sight of the feather.”
She fought a smile and lost. “You, sir, are far too observant.”
“And you, madam, are far too stubborn.”
Giving up the struggle, she laughed. “Yes. Mama says that all the time.”
“Some things never change.” He glanced around the empty room, then added, more soberly, “Would you really have eloped with me years ago if I’d defied my father and come for you without a penny to my name?”
Tears rising in her throat, she nodded. “But it would have been a mistake. Even the deepest love has a hard time surviving poverty.”
“That was my thinking at the time. Now I’m not so sure.” His expression was unusually grave. “If we’d stood up to our parents, don’t you think they would eventually have relented and helped us? Especially once there were children—their grandchildren—on the way?”
A blush stained her cheeks. Oh, Lord, to have had his children—chubby-cheeked little lads and lasses with Hart’s smile and her eyes. But what a risk that would have been, having children without a certain income. “We’ll never know, will we? You made your choice—and made mineforme, actually.”
When he winced, she regretted the pointed remark and changed the subject. “So, where on earth did you get the peacock feather? I haven’t seen a single peacock roaming these grounds.” As she gave in to the urge to stroke his beautiful gift, she turned her tone teasing. “Wait, don’t tell me. You stole it from another lady’s bonnet. No, no, you won it in a card game last night.”
He cast her a look of mock insult. “I’ll have you know, my lady, that I plucked it myself from the bum of a very nice bird belonging to a neighboring farmer.”
A delighted laugh escaped her before she could prevent it. “Hart! You can’t say ‘bum’ to a lady!”
“Bum.” He watched her face with odd intent. “Bum, bum, bum.”
“You have a fixation on vulgar words having to do with bottoms,” she pointed out, though she wasn’t about to admit that his daring fascinated her and always had. “First, ‘arse,’ then ‘bum.’ Whatever will it be next?”
He bent close to whisper, “How about ‘derriere’? As in, ‘You have a very attractive derriere, sweetheart.’ ”
“Take care, sir,” she said, struggling not to smile. “You won’t win me with such language.”Liar.She picked up the feather. “Or with sweet gifts, no matter how thoughtful.”Once again, liar.
He grinned, undaunted. “But it’s a start, right?”
Giving in, she shook her head ruefully. “It’s a start. Yes.”
“So, why did you get up so late this morning? As I recall, you prefer to rise with the chickens.”
He’d managed to astonish her again. “You remember that, too?”
“How could I forget? Half our secret meetings took place at the crack of dawn—and trust me, that was not easy for a fellow staying up late studying.”
“Oh, poor baby.” She smirked at him. “Forced to rise early for a female.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” he said in an odd tone, then settled his hip against the table. “But you haven’t answered my question—why are you just now getting up?”
She opted for the truth. “I had trouble falling asleep last night. I was considering your proposal for a courtship.”
“Are-courtship.”
“I amnotgoing to call it that,” she said with a sniff. “It’s the silliest word I ever heard.”
