“And leave,” she muttered, picking at her stew.
He arched a single brow. “I wouldn’t have gotten far.”
“That’s my point, you would have gottensomewhere.”
Lash’s face showed his exasperation. It was a look everyone had around her sooner or later.
“Your brother was upset to discover you knew I’m Rom. You didn’t tell him.” An accusation.
Honoria shrugged. “You are different, that is true, and some, such as Hugh, don’t always react well to people who are different. They respond with mistrust and will treat you as though you are damaged.”
His lips curved. But his gaze remained sharp. “He also said you have taken an interest in me.”
Honoria’s face flamed at that. How dare Hugh say such a thing? Och, her brother annoyed her at times. “I cannot believe we shared the same womb,” she muttered.
He sputtered over his bowl. “Pardon?”
She waved his question aside. “Of course he’d be worried over any interest I take in a man, healing notwithstanding. My brother is afraid history will repeat itself.”
“History?”
Honoria nodded. “My sister took an interest in our gardener and my brothers sent him away,” she explained.
“Ah.”
They fell into a comfortable silence, finishing their stew. Honoria’s eyes ever so often trailed over his face. He had beautiful eyes. The sort of green that one could only find on a warm summer day in Highland pastures. His lips, too, were the sort of fullness that no women could resist dreaming about. Not even a week had passed and the air crackled with wildness.
So much for expelling improper fantasies.
It seemed in his presence, the battle of resistance held no power whatsoever. Distracted, her surreptitious gaze wandered their path again, only to find his eyes on her.
She blinked.
“Why do I get the sense,” he drawled, “I’m spiraling into uncertain peril?”
“How remarkably eerie, I was just thinking the same thing.”
