“I haven’t,” she said.
“What? Of course you have.”
She nodded. “Yes, of course.” She fingered the pretty edge of the ribbon.
“Hold on.” Carlisle put his hands on his hips. “What about your birthday? You receive gifts then, yes?”
Katie nodded. She shouldn’t have said she hadneverreceived a gift before.
Carlisle’s eyes narrowed. “You are a horrible liar. No birthday presents? What about Christmas?”
“Yes, of course. I always receive Christmas gifts.”
“What did you receive this Christmas?”
She blinked and tried to think of the sort of gift her father might give her.
“No gifts at Christmas?” Carlisle shook his head. “This is shocking. I feel as though I should have given you ten gifts to compensate.”
“I don’t know why you gave meonegift.”
“Open it.”
Katie finally pulled the ribbon until the bow came apart. Then she lifted the top of the box and peered down at several sheets of pale pink tissue paper. She lifted the pretty paper and gasped at what she saw beneath. A set of paints and brushes were nestled among more sheets of pink paper. She lifted the set out of the box and cradled it close. Immediately the scent of paint was slightly acrid in her nostrils, making her feel the most like herself since she had arrived.
“How did you know?” she asked.
“That you paint? You told me.” He indicated his fingers. “I asked about the stain on your finger.”
“But how did you know I don’t have my paints with me?” Her gaze flew to his. “Oh, no! I’m not supposed to have these.” She should have thrust them back at him, but she couldn’t bring herself to part with the lovely gift.
“Your father needn’t know, and if you like, I can keep them at the dower house for you so your companion doesn’t see them. My sisters used to paint and sketch, and my mother has some oftheir old sketchbooks and canvas. You are welcome to come and paint or draw there.”
“But why would you give me this?” She tightened her grip on the paints. “Why offer the use of your mother’s home?” Especially, she thought, after she’d moved into his home and taken it away. And then she understood. “This is not a gift. This is abribe.”
“I wouldn’t call it a bribe.”
“You think by giving me this I’ll let you search the library for clues to the property our grandfathers fought over. That’s a bribe.” As much as it pained her, she pried the paints from her heart and held them out to him. “I cannot accept these or your offer to paint at your mother’s house.” She could feel her heart breaking in half as she spoke. Her voice caught on a sob, but she maintained her composure. She could cry after he left.
Carlisle stared at her, then at the paints, then back at her face. “God’s teeth. You’re about to cry.”
“I’m not.” Her lips trembled, and her eyes stung.
“You are.”
“I’m not.” She swiped a tear off her cheek.
Carlisle sank to his knees. He still hadn’t taken the paints back. “I admit, it was a bribe, and I’m sorry.” He pushed the paint set back toward her. “Keep it as—as a token of friendship and gratitude for telling me the information you did have. You owe me nothing else.”
She shook her head. “I feel as though I’ll be obligated.”
“Not in the least. I promise. My mother said your father won’t let you paint. That seems unfair and unkind. She’s all alone at the dower house. You would be doingmea favor by spending time with her.”
Katie didn’t point out that Carlisle was living at the house with his mother, but she supposed he would not be staying in Surrey much longer. After all, what was there here for him?
“Please, Katie? Accept the gift?”
She looked into his eyes, now darker blue in the lamplight. She could lose herself in those eyes and in that handsome face. She didn’t know how he managed to look so handsome in the middle of the night after scaling a trellis and climbing in through her window. She imagined she must look even worse than usual. Not for the first time, she wished she were pretty. She wished he might look at her as a man does a woman, and not merely as the daughter of his enemy and the means to an end.
