Part 6 (1/2)
”Did I say that?” he said with a slow smile that lit his whole face. ”I'm neither blind nor stupid, so of course I would love to lie with you. I've wanted to kiss you since the moment we met. But anything that might be between us is separate from what must be done in San Gabriel.”
Her return smile was sad. ”How can there be anything between us when you'll be gone so soon? You're anxious to return home, while I am committed to staying here indefinitely. I'm no innocent just emerged from the schoolroom, but I'm nowhere near reckless and worldly enough to lie with a virtual stranger. We haven't the time for more than the first levels of friends.h.i.+p.”
”That is . . . not necessarily true.” His gaze held hers, his gray eyes turning serious. ”Though I yearn for my home, some things are more important. Becoming better acquainted with you is one such thing.”
She stared at him. ”You're a most unusual man, Major Masterson.”
”I've been told that before,” he said sadly. ”It's never a compliment.”
She had to smile. ”Now I know you're teasing.”
”Possibly,” he agreed; his expression sober, but his eyes amused. ”If I'm forgiven for the kiss, will you call me Will again? I prefer to be on first name terms with you.”
”Very well, Will.” She preferred that as well. ”For whatever time you're here, we can be friends. After you leave . . .” She shrugged. ”In my experience, men are not such good letter writers as women, and it's a long way from San Gabriel to Oxfords.h.i.+re.”
”I'm a rather decent letter writer, actually.” His gaze intensified. ”Friends. And who knows? Perhaps we can become more than friends.”
She felt as if the breath had been knocked out of her. He could not possibly mean what he seemed to be implying. Returning to irony, she said, ”What are the relations.h.i.+p possibilities?” She held up her left hand and ticked off one finger. ”Friends.h.i.+p is the broadest category and can range from mild acquaintance to deep, enduring loyalty. I think we are already mild friends?”
”If we weren't more than mild friends already, we wouldn't be having this extremely interesting discussion,” he agreed.
She ticked off another finger. ”We could become enemies.”
”I will not allow that,” he said firmly. ”I have had enough of enemies.”
”One does not always have a choice.” She tapped her middle finger. ”The opposite of love or hate, which is indifference.”
”It is much too late for indifference,” Will said seriously. ”I believe I mentioned my immediate interest in kissing you.”
”Do you always want to kiss women who aim rifles at you?” she asked curiously.
”No, you're the only one,” he said. ”Though if the truth be known, women seldom greet me with weaponry.”
”I'm glad to hear that.” She studied her hand. ”Two fingers left for listing relations.h.i.+ps, and those remaining are deeply implausible.”
”But these are the most interesting possibilities!” he exclaimed.
”'Interesting' doesn't mean good.” She ticked her ring finger. ”We could have an affair. That will not happen for any number of reasons, most of which you can imagine.”
”Which leaves another possibility,” he said, his voice soft.
She closed her hand into a fist. ”You can't possibly be interested in marriage! You scarcely know me.”
”That's true, as is the reverse. If we get to know each other better, one or both of us might decide we'd never suit.”
She stared at him, feeling as if time had stopped. She was sharply aware of the sweeping valley and mild breeze, the suns.h.i.+ne warming them both, his tanned complexion.
The bleak impossibility of what he was saying. ”Forgive me if I'm misunderstanding, but are you actually proposing courts.h.i.+p?”
”Indeed I am. A courts.h.i.+p of two wary but wise adults.” He hesitated before continuing, ”It's possible I am too old and jaded to ever be fit for marriage again.”
”You're not that old,” she said firmly.
He smiled a little. ”Perhaps not. But I have seen too much of the world and made too many mistakes.”
”I often feel the same,” she said. ”Perhaps that is why I interest you?”
”Very likely. I have trouble imagining myself making conversation with the typical well-bred young lady back in England.”
”No more than I could converse with an English country gentleman, the sort who cherishes delicate females,” she said wryly. ”Which is one of several reasons I've sworn never to marry.”
”'Never' is a very long time. We change with age. Things that seemed implausible can come to seem desirable.”
”True in theory, but I'm settling happily into eccentric spinsterhood,” she retorted. ”I doubt I'd change my mind.”
”But you do concede the possibility of changing your mind.” He smiled. ”I can work with that.”
She couldn't resist smiling back. ”You're very persistent, Will. But you haven't much time to change my mind.”
”True,” he said thoughtfully. ”Are you willing to experiment? My brother's wife is full of interesting thoughts and theories. She said that courting couples meet under such artificial circ.u.mstances and see so little of each other that it's far too easy to choose one's life partner very badly.”
”Was she mistaken in your brother?” Athena asked, surprised.
”No, but they didn't meet under artificial social conditions,” Will explained. ”Kiri met Mac after she'd narrowly escaped engaging herself to a man she met conventionally. It would have been a very bad match for her, so she now advocates avoiding conventional courts.h.i.+ps.”
”In what unconventional way did she meet your brother?” Athena asked curiously.
”He rescued her after she'd been kidnapped by smugglers.” Will grinned. ”So they skipped superficial chat and went straight to deeper issues.”
”Kidnapped by smugglers. Of course! I should have remembered that's the very best way to meet a husband,” Athena said with mock seriousness. ”She sounds like an interesting woman.”
”You'll like her,” Will promised as if a future meeting was inevitable. ”But the two relations.h.i.+ps, the wrong one and then the right one, inspired Kiri's theory of how to quickly learn a great deal about a potential partner.”
”What is her suggested method?” Athena asked, reluctantly interested.
”To ask each other difficult questions, the kind that makes one reveal oneself,” he explained. ”It isn't easy, but the process is far more useful than exchanging pleasantries over tea and cakes or trying to converse in a noisy ballroom.”
She frowned. ”That sounds deucedly uncomfortable. What if one party flatly refuses to partic.i.p.ate?”
”Doesn't that tell you something important right there?”
”It says that the prospective mate is uncomfortable with emotion and intimacy,” Athena said thoughtfully. ”Most people are uncomfortable with revealing too much, of course, but one would hope for more from a possible mate.”
”Are you game for a few questions now?” he asked, his gaze intent. ”If we don't immediately alienate each other, we can continue to ask a question or two a day.”
She studied Will's strong, honest face. She'd long since given up the idea that she'd ever marry and she doubted she'd change her mind, no matter how persuasive he might be. Even though he was the most appealing man she'd met in years. ”I don't think you'll change my mind, Will. Is it worth the effort when I'm such a recalcitrant female?”