When later she found another private moment with him to discuss his progress, she justified her response in a tart tone. “That biddy is a terrible gossip, and I won’t have her denigrating you.”
“No, only you are permitted to denigrate me,” Brandon remarked.
She gave a rueful smile. “Yes, but never in public in front of witnesses.”
“I was touched that you came to my defense like a fierce
mother tigress.”
“I feel responsible for your success,” she said. “So what is your opinion of Miss Smythe and Miss Armitage?”
“I didn’t care for either one.”
Her smile turned victorious. “I regret saying I told you so.”
“No, you don’t.”
Kate laughed, a sound rich in pleasure. “Miss Armitage is more your style. She has already set her cap for you. It should be amusing to watch you elude her clutches.”
Still later, after supper, he found himself watching Kate from a distance as she stood on the sidelines of the dance floor, apparently bantering with a tall, dark-haired gentleman. Brandon barely stopped himself from scowling. It was clear the man admired her—a sparkling-eyed beauty who radiated charm. What red-blooded male wouldn’t?
And when her mouth twitched with a devastating smile, a flash of memory from six years ago hit Brandon—a vision of her lithe, beautiful, nude body—and he felt the impact straight in his loins.
When he next spoke to her, he asked the gentleman’s identity.
“That was Lord Gallier.”
“You seem on good terms.”
“Yes. He is a longtime friend of Quinn’s.”
“Is he the one?”
“The one?”
“Your former lover.”
For a moment, her eyes widened at the blunt question. Then her expression lightened. “Take care, Lord Valmere. One would almost think you jealous.”
He was indeed jealous, Brandon reflected, although he wasn’t ready to admit it aloud to Kate. “I am curious about how he appeals to you.”
“I am comfortable with him, and I admire his sharp wit.”
“I’ll wager he treats you like a woman.”
“Come to think of it…he does.”
When another gentleman came to solicit her hand for a dance, she left Brandon standing there, acknowledging his powerful, almost irrational feeling of possessiveness.
If he’d had any doubts about wedding Kate, his fierce reaction just then would have dispelled them. He wanted her for himself. Clearly it was time to escalate his pursuit of her.
His plan was momentarily sidetracked, however, when Lady Dalton entered the ballroom to great fanfare and made a beeline straight for him. With a seductive smile, she maneuvered him into conversing with her for nearly a quarter of an hour—an event that, curiously, Kate did not seem happy to see, Brandon noted.
He had not the least interest in Lady Dalton. Kate must have had a contentious relationship with the widow, though, judging from her flashing eyes when shortly he spied them conversing together, or perhaps even arguing.
When Kate suddenly turned and strode from the room, Brandon stared after her thoughtfully, debating his best course.
—