One Week As Lovers (Somerhart 3) - Page 80

“Oh, for God’s sake. It thinks you’re a fisherman who’ll begin tossing bait at any moment.”

He tossed her an exasperated glare. “Why are you in such an awful mood today? You seemed perfectly happy this morning.”

When she narrowed her eyes at the path ahead, he thought she’d argue, but eventually her brow smoothed out. A few steps later, she met his gaze and sighed. “I’m sorry, but you’re making me nervous.”

“How?”

“You seem to be deliberately trying to raise my hopes.”

“About our marriage?”

“No! We won’t be married, Nick. And that’s another thing. You must stop thinking about that.”

“Hard not to think about marriage after this morning.”

“Oh, really? Do you think about marrying every woman you swive?”

“Cynthia Merrithorpe!” he barked, shock shifting to anger in the space of one heartbeat. “That wasn’t swiving, damn you.”

“I’m fairly certain it was,” she snapped.

She couldn’t think it meant nothing to him. He’d made clear he was in love with her. So was she trying to tell him it meant nothing to her? He stopped in his tracks and turned toward her, wrapping his hand around her elbow to pull her to a stop.

“I’m not going another step until I hear the truth from you. Are you in love with me or not?”

She gasped as if he’d just pinched her.

“Answer the question.”

“I won’t!”

“Why?”

She jerked her arm away. “Because it’s not relevant.”

“I’ve already made clear I’m in love with you.”

“You are not in love with me. You think you’re in love with me because I’m a novelty. I’m not like those London women, remember? I’m different. I don’t give a fig about your debts or your standing or whether you can afford the latest fashion. I’m a reprieve, Nick. That’s all.”

Unbelievable. How had she become so cynical out here in the c

ountry? “That is not all, damn it.”

“Oh, really?” She crossed her arms. “What is it, then? What makes me so much better than all those beautiful London women? What makes me better than a pretty girl in a pretty dress with a pretty inheritance? Nothing.”

“Nothing?” he shouted.

“I’m a plain country girl with no education. I’ve no money and nothing to recommend me, not even beauty. Any of those London women would make you a better wife.”

“None of them would. There isn’t a soul in London who knows me. Not one person. Do you know why I wasn’t frightened of your haunting? Do you know why I accepted it so easily? Because I was a ghost too, Cyn. I am a ghost. And you’re the only one who still sees me.”

Even the gulls seemed to stop squawking in that moment as his words hung in the air between them. He took a step back, shocked that he’d said them, but Cynthia looked far more shocked than he.

“What do you mean?”

He shook his head. “It’s just…It’s not like it is here. That’s all.”

“I don’t think that is all,” she whispered.

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