Page 22

If she were honest, and she always strived to be so, that scrumptious kiss—her first kiss—had knocked her world off its axis. She suspected her life would never be the same. Nevertheless, she yearned to get to know Caspian better, which would only happen if he believed she wasn’t interested in marriage.

Which she wasn’t—was she?

“We can still be friends, Caspian.”

She searched his amber eyes, unable to discern anything from the carefully banal stare he regarded her with.

“Friends?” He laughed and shook his head. “Has anyone ever told you how tenacious you are, Corinna Brockman?”

At least he hadn’t said friendship was impossible between a man and a woman, as Sanford staunchly maintained.

Corinna pulled a wry face.

“Many times, I confess. It’s not a trait the ton admires. Neither is frank speech nor a penchant to disregard tongue wagging and ridiculous, outdated etiquette protocols. I also enjoy studying architecture, ancient writing, and herbal remedies. Hardly drawing room conversation topics.”

An expression of mock horror etched Caspian’s face. “Never say so.”

Grinning, she lifted a shoulder. “In short, I’m hopelessly unsuitable for matrimony.”

“As am I.” He skewed his mouth into a cocky, boyish grin. “Let’s have our walk and agree the subject of marriage is one neither of us wishes to discuss.”

“Agreed.” Nodding, she stepped through the doorway and gave a furtive glance up and down the corridor. Odd that not a single person had come along.

Not so very odd if Lady Osborne had arranged the suspiciously empty passageway.

That woman.

She must cease her matrimonial meddling and manipulating.

“I’ll meet you on the terrace in ten minutes.” Corinna gave Caspian a playful, arch glance. “Unless you don’t plan on showing up again.”

Chuckling, the mellow timbre resonating in his broad chest, he ran a long, calloused finger over his scar.

Did it still pain him?

A queer ache pinched behind her breastbone to think of him in pain—suffering.

“I’ll be there. I see no harm in taking a turn about the gardens.” Caspian veered his gaze toward the long windows and jerked his chin. “Others have had the same idea.”

Corinna observed a few intrepid souls milling about the damp pavers. “Perfect. There can be no question of propriety then.”

She took her leave before her tongue betrayed her.

If ever a woman could make me change my mind, it would be you.

If ever a man could change her mind, it was Caspian, Baron Strathmore.