“Because youhateme?” He suggested as if she should have known. “Because you don’t truly want—”
Why did he sound as confused as she felt?
“I understand,” he started again, “that you are angry and scared. I can even appreciate that you need to…to take the lead. But I just… I just cannot trustmyselfto resist, even when I know your, your…wooing isn’t real.”
Wooing?How…Neville.If she wasn’t so hurt and angry she would have laughed.
“You think I would “woo” you in jest? I don’t know what I’m doing, you—youdunderhead.”
“Don’t know what you’re—?! But youalwaysmake a game of driving me mad. Like that time in the maze—”
“Don’t talk about that!” He’d ruined her memory. “I know where I went wrong, now. I convinced myself you wanted me as much as I wan—” She clenched her teeth and sucked in. “Never you mind!” If he didn’t know, he did not deserve to know. “Just go back to that woman and leave me alone!”
“Dunderhead?” he repeated.
“Dunder-everything!”
He fell quiet. “Yes…Yes, I believe you are right.” He made a sound suspiciously like a snort. “I have been a dunder-everything.”
“Donotagree with me,” she warned. “That’s not enough for me to forgive you.”
His inhale was deep and audible. “What if…” He paused for a long moment. “What if I let you shake me again?”
He sounded hopeful, the fool. “No.”
Shaking him hadn’t been very nice. Lady Asquith would be ashamed.
“You can…” His searching palm met her shoulder.
This time, she didn’t turn away.
“That is”—he guided her hands back to his lapels—“if you still wish.”
“Shaking you was in poor taste.” She gathered his clothes in her fists. “But, right now, I’m so angry at you I’dshootyou, if I was sure I’d get away with it.”
His light chuckle rumbled beneath her hands. “No doubt you would.”
She didn’t know what to do. Pull him close? Push him away? Remain as they were indefinitely?
“May I hold you again?” he asked.
“Madman,” she accused. But softly. And with the tiniest tug.
He encircled her in his strong arms.Somuch better. So much warmer. And so…right.
She sighed deeply and then dropped her head against his shoulder. A surrender. Not to him, but to her overwhelming need for him. She was exhausted. She didn’t want to fight anymore.
“I wouldn’t want you to risk the rope,” he soothed. “Not for a dunderhead like me.”
“No one would blame me for your murder, madman.”
His thumb passed over her cheek, wiping away a tear. “I am not mad, you know. I’ve been stupid, yes. I thought that you—Well, it doesn’t matter what I thought. It appears I have been very wrong. Let us just concur on the stupid.”
She pressed her cheek against his shoulder. “I shouldn’t like to be hanged.”
“No, dearest. You must avoid the rope. Especially, with a neck so…so…” His voice deepened. “So perfect.”
“Perfect?” She sniffed again. It was the nicest thing he’d ever said.