Page 134 of If the Slipper Fits
As if losing her patience, she threw her arms open wide. “Zeke? You wished to discuss some things with your brother, I believe?”
He gave a resigned sigh and set the slice of apple he’d cut on his plate.
“Quite right my dear.” He gave Caden a frank look. “The thing is, Kitty and I both think…” He eyed the ceiling. “How can I put this?”
Caden had never seen his brother tongue-tied. If it was anyone else, he might guess the subject involved Anna’s defection, but, Zeke? Impossible. His brother would never interfere in Caden’s personal affairs, not those involving the opposite sex, at any rate.
Kitty once again spoke up. “We both think you’re being an idiot. Meant in the kindest possible way, of course.”
“Of course,” he said. “You think I ought to move back into the Hall until the renovations are complete.”
Zeke gave him a pained smile. “Not quite.”
“If this is about the quarry, I already told you—”
“The quarry!” Kitty exclaimed, clearly vexed.
Zeke spared her a brief, quelling glance. “Cade, forget the quarry, and your ridiculous insistence in living in a half-dilapidated cottage. Can you think of any other area of your life where you may have, of late, mismanaged things dismally?”
Yes. Caden glared at his brother. “No.”
Kitty snorted.
Zeke gave his wife another speaking look. “I’ll spell it out. You clearly love the woman. She clearly loves you. What Kitty and I want to know is, why aren’t you fighting for her?”
Caden was struck momentarily speechless. Then he propped both elbows onto the hard wood table top. He scrubbed his hands over his stubble covered cheeks.
“Could you elaborate? The part about…” Heat rising up his neck, he cleared his throat. “About Anna clearly loving me?”
“I knew it,” Kitty hissed, triumphant. “Zeke Thurgood, if only you’d talked this over with Caden like I suggested before she left. The poor, dear girl—”
Caden’s head snapped in Kitty’s direction so fast, her words died in her throat. “She. left.” He articulated each word.
Her expression softened. “Darling, did you never ask yourself why?”
He erupted from his chair, nearly upending it, and stalked to the counter to stare out the window into the riotous garden beyond. Anna’s garden, it was meant to have been.
“I didn’t need to ask myself,” he said in a low voice. “She asked herself what I had to offer as a husband and found me wanting.”
“Caden,” Kitty sputtered, “what utter nonsense. Why would you think—”
“Kitty.” Though Zeke spoke in a low voice, his tone carried unmistakable command. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to speak with my brother alone.”
After a brief hesitation, she stalked out to the garden. She did not close the door behind her.
Caden turned, leaning into the counter, arms crossed over his chest.
Zeke rose and moved to stand beside him. “What do you have to offer?” he asked softly, as if considering the question.
He crossed one arm over his chest, propped his elbow on his forearm and his chin in his hand. “Let’s see. To date, you’ve offered to rescue Miss Masters from a well-connected, if disliked member of the nobility, you mended the schism in your family, from whom you had broken ties thanks to me and my pig-headedness—No, let me finish,” he said when Caden opened his mouth to argue that the fault for the rift lie withhispig-headedness.
“You played your part, I played mine. Bottom line, I should have recognized you’d turned into a man and asked questions rather than making presumptions. We’ve established that much.”
“Yes, but I gave you good reason. My whole life I’ve tended toward our father’s bents, whereas you emulated the earl. We both know which of the two is the better man.”
Zeke’s eyes flashed with ire. “You have some of our father’s traits, Cade. That is not a crime. Don’t you know men would kill to possess one ounce of your natural charm? Your magnetism, with both women and men alike? Your bloody luck, for that matter, which, I’ll add, our father never possessed?”
“These are my so-called good traits? I sound like a shallow, rudderless cove.” He snorted. “Thank you for making my point.”
