“I believe that is the best advice you’ve given yourself since you lost your everlasting mind.”
Hart’s shoulders went back, spine whipcord straight. He clenched his fists, mastering his calm.
“Kilmartin,” he drawled. “How strange how you continue showing up whenever a certain lady is near.”
“The lady is not near,” Kilmartin snapped. “I put her in a carriage and sent her home—in tears.”
Hart’s chest hitched.
Bloody hell, do not let them make you waver.
“What did you say to her?” Kilmartin demanded.
“That isn’t your business.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Or is it?”
“You were never one to speak in cryptic terms, Hart,” Kilmartin snapped with a defensiveness that bespoke loyalty—to Fleur. The other man’s affection? Or…more.
A bitter taste of covetousness possessed him.
“I asked you a question—”
“You, Kilmartin, don’t get to put questions to me, unless you’re instructed to.” Hart peered down his nose.
“Sod off, Hart. Since when did you become your father?”
Hart stiffened. He’d spent his life molding himself for the Tremaine name. Kilmartin’s words pierced him more than they should have.
It reminded him there was a young woman waiting for him, a proper, virtuous miss who didn’t have a babe in her belly.
Ah, God. Fleur.
His breath ran ragged. She’d be alone in this. No—she had her family. Society would tear her to shreds.
Just as I did.
Regardless of how they ended, he cared. He worried. He always would. No, he more than cared for her. He…
Hart faltered.
The far-off echo of his father’s voice climbed above his wavering.
“…You bear the name Hart as a reminder that you do not have one…to never let yourself be weak…”
Hart firmed his purpose. “I have guests waiting.”
“Ah, yes, best run along.” Kilmartin jerked his chin a notch. “You have all the most privileged members of the Ton awaiting you. Lady Angela will make you aperfectbride.”
“Actually, she will.” Let the other man wrap a sneer around it.
But she won’t make you happy the way Fleur does…or challenge you…
Fleur, who, with her recklessness, had gone and ensured she could not be his in name…
A cinch about his lungs squeezed.
“I am trying to be patient, but you are making it impossible, you unmitigated arse.” Kilmartin wrapped a hand around his arm and squeezed, startling him. “That lady loves you.”
Hart stared blankly at him.