He watched as she swallowed, her skin pale. Her fingers entwined tight enough to make her knuckles white.
“Oh,” she said softly. “I beg your pardon. Of course you have the right to know.”
Except he didn’t. Not really. Not when their engagement was a lie. He didn’t say that aloud though. He was too interested in her answer.
“James and I kissed. Just…kissed. I knew not to go further, and he was gentleman enough not to press. And truthfully, it was only a few weeks before Papa realized and put a stop to it.”
At least her father had paid some attention. But bloody hell, the dangers to an innocent girl wandering about the countryside were legion. He shuddered to think what might have happened. “What became of this chandler’s brat?”
She shot him an annoyed look. “You have no cause to call him names. He married one of the local girls the very next year. They have three children now and are very happy.”
Did he detect a note of longing in her voice? Or perhaps the better term was “loneliness.” He had not stopped to think what her life must have been like here, secluded and waiting hand and foot on her father. The man had enough care to forbid the local men, but not enough presence of mind to be sure she met gentlemen other than her cousin.
“I beg your pardon,” he said as he joined her on the settee.
She tilted her head and more of her curls escaped their pins. The whole mass would come tumbling down around her ears soon, and he found himself hopeful for the event. He waited while she looked at him, her eyes steady and no longer shiny with suppressed tears. He waited even longer, but she said nothing in response to his apology.
He deserved that, he supposed. He was the one to kiss her and the one to rudely demand she account for herself. Therefore it was up to him to make amends.
“I suppose I am unaccustomed to being engaged. I have behaved badly.”
“By kissing me?”
Yes. No. Bloody hell, but he couldn’t make himself regret that kiss. “By being impetuous. It’s my gravest fault, you see. Sometimes I just act without thinking.”
“Ah,” she said. Nothing more. Damn, she was hard to read, and he was accounted a good judge of people and faces.
He shifted to look at her more fully. “You haven’t changed your mind, have you? About our engagement?”
She shook her head, then looked at him. “Have you?”
“Lord, no. I’ve been casting about for a solution for weeks now. But…” He looked at her lips. He looked at the way she twisted her hands in her skirts. And he was excruciatingly aware of his still throbbing erection. “But no more kissing, I think.”
“I assure you, James and I haven’t kissed in years.”
He frowned. “I, um, I meant us.”
Her lips twitched. “Yes, I know.”
She was teasing him. The minx had deliberately misconstrued his words. Damnation, how could she be so composed when his blood still ran hot with lust? He dropped back against the cushions and regarded her darkly.
“It occurs to me that you and I don’t know each other very well.”
She quirked an eyebrow at him, but did not speak.
He felt his jaw clench. “You have been cutting up at me all day. Do not become taciturn now. It ill becomes you.”
“Mr. Anaedsley, we have known each other nearly all our lives.”
Perhaps. But he had only vaguely been aware of her. And now he wondered if he had missed something—someone—special. An odd thought to be sure. Meanwhile, she unclasped her hands and made an open gesture.
“What is it you wish to know?”
Damnation, this was ridiculous. He didn’t know what he wanted to know. If he did, he’d know it already. He huffed out a breath, completely at a loss.
“Mr. Anaedsley—”
“Trevor. We are affianced, Mellie. At least call me by my Christian name.