She’d been right, apparently, to think he’d pretend they hadn’t…
Kissed.
Rather than jump right into that, however… “I wished to thank you. For the gown.”
He paused mid-motion, swallowed, and only then lifted his gaze to hers. “You had worn both of your dresses more than once,” he said. “I simply assumed you’d require something more appropriate for dinner.”
“Just one night,” she replied softly. “But it is beautiful.”
Her fingers brushed the embroidery along the edge of the bodice. “I imagine the previous wearer did not spend her days wandering fields. It’s far too fine for that.”
“There was no previous wearer.”
She looked up. “But?—”
“There is a very capable modiste in Harrow’s Bridge,” he said evenly. “In case you had forgotten.”
Her breath stalled. “You… ordered it?”
A faint shrug. “There has not been a lady in residence since my mother’s death. It was the most practical solution.”
Practical.
Rosamund searched his face for humor—found none.
“You bought me a gown,” she said quietly. “A green one.”
His jaw shifted slightly. “It suits you.” But he wasn’t looking at her.
Silence stretched between them.
“Do not read too much into it,” he added, more briskly now. “You are my guest. Nothing more.”
But he did not look uncaring. He looked… careful.
Stunned into silence, Rosamund just stared at him…
And then, she couldn’t help but ask. “Are you angry with me?” She dropped her spoon with a clatter. “For… what happened in the forest?”
The kiss.
Eye down, his hand stilled over the soup. A muscle ticked at the corner of his jaw. “I am not angry,” he said, and then almost under his breath, added: “At you.”
“But… youareangry.”
He grimaced a little at that. “I… I regret that I–”
“But it wasIwho kissedyou,” Rosamund interrupted quickly. Heat swept her cheeks, but she would not take it back. “You merely… kissed me back.”Expertly, but she didn’t add that. “It’s just that, I sensed…” She faltered. “I don’t know what came over me. I have never—I mean, I know better. But I…” This wasn’t at all what she’d meant to say. “If you aren’t angry with me, then you’ve no one to be angry with.”
At that, his gaze finally lifted, and blinking, he shook his head.
“Your candor,” he said at last. “It is…”
“Annoying? Outrageous?” Rosamund suggested, because she’d heard this before.
Almost as though it was against his will, the corner of his mouth lifted. “Refreshing.”
“Oh.” She ducked her gaze. “My mother wouldn’t agree. Nor my sisters.”