Page 64 of The Heiress's Daughter
A faint furrow appeared between her brows. “What about?” she asked cautiously.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
“Have I?” she said, but her blush betrayed her.
“You know you have. What’s more,” he added, recalling a grievance, “you’ve been going around telling people I’m like an uncle to you. Abenevolent uncle, I think were the words.”
She laughed. “Was it Lady Snake who told you that?”
“Lady Snape. Yes it was.”
She laughed again. “I prefer my pronunciation. Anyway I only told her that to annoy her. She was being horrid, and I wanted her to think her nasty comments were water off a duck’s back. Apparently she believed me. Good.”
He stiffened. “What did she say to you?”
Clarissa shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter. She’s a nasty piece of work and I won’t have her sinking her talons into you.”
Clarissa raised her brows at that. “You are not responsible for me, or what other people say to me.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Yes you did.”
“All right, I did. But—”
“Thank you. When my sister left on her honeymoon, I realized that I had to learn to stand on my own two feet—we’d always been a pair until then, and I’m afraid I let Izzy take the lead in most things. But that can’t continue, and so I’ve been trying to be more…more assertive. And dealing with the likes of Lady Snake is part of that.”
He frowned, considering her words. “I see,” he said at last. “And you’re right. I was just angry at the thought that she’d peck at you to get back at me.”
“Get back at you?”
He grimaced. “Sour grapes. She doesn’t take kindly to rejection.”
“Rejection? By you?”
“Several times. But enough about her. I have a question for you: Why are you avoiding me? Have I done something to offend you?”
She gave him a thoughtful look, then shook her head. “No, you haven’t offended me. It’s nothing like that.”
“But you are avoiding me.”
She bit her lip. “I suppose I have been.”
“Was it the kiss?”
Her cheeks bloomed with color and she glanced around to be sure nobody was listening. “No, it wasn’t that. That was…very nice.”
“Nice?” Race stared at her. Cakes were nice. Kittens were nice. His kisses had never been called nice in his life, not even when he was a callow inexperienced youth.
She nodded. “Yes, very nice. But it cannot go any further than that.”
He frowned. “What would you say if I told you that my intentions are honorable?”
Her expression turned skeptical. “Even if they were, there would be no point.”
“Why not?”
