Beauty and the Blacksmith (Spindle Cove #3.5)(36)

The edge of accusation in his voice cut her deeply. He was right, she supposed. If she had been more forthright about her feelings for Aaron, the truth of last night wouldn’t come as such a surprise. For that matter, she wouldn’t have needed to lie about a headache in the first place.

“I . . . I’m not a woman who bares her feelings easily.” Out of habit, she reached for the vial hanging about her neck. It wasn’t there. Her fingers closed on air, and she felt bereft with nothing to cling to. “I’ve always been reserved.”

“Reserved,” he echoed. “Until this past week, you barely acknowledged me when we crossed paths in the lane. I’ve never taken offense. But now you call me ashamed? You know that’s not fair.”

All Diana knew was that she had to leave.

With shaking fingers, she put her clothing to rights as best she could and headed for the door. If he would abandon her to face false accusations of thievery before admitting to his own true actions, there seemed nothing more to discuss. She was on her own.

“Don’t go away angry,” he said, his tone gentler than before. “We’ll reside in this village for the rest of our lives, God willing. In a week, any absurd accusations of theft will be forgotten. But if you tell everyone about last night, the gossip will linger for years. I just want to be careful, that’s all.”

“I’ll be careful. I have a great deal of practice being careful. Don’t worry, Aaron.” She whirled her cloak about her shoulders and secured it tight in front. “I’ll make it home with these stains unseen. No one needs to know about us. Ever.”

She slammed the door, and Aaron’s ribs rattled with the force of the crash.

Damn. He hadn’t handled that well.

With two sisters in his care, Aaron had been on the receiving end of some feminine fury in his life. But Diana’s was a first-rate exit. One that begged, Chase after me. Grovel and plead and promise to give me anything I ask, everything I need.

He had every intention of doing just that.

Curse it, he never should have made that remark about lightskirts. He’d sounded disgusted by her, when in reality he was only disgusted with himself.

This entire situation was his fault. He never should have allowed her to stay last night. If another man had treated Diana—or any woman, for that matter—this way, Aaron would have raised hell. And the entire village knew it. He was the resident big brother. He protected the female contingent of Spindle Cove. But he’d failed to look out for the woman he loved.

He would go to her. Just as soon as he could manage it. First he needed to bathe, change, shave. He’d put on his best coat, gather up a spring flower or two. He supposed he hadn’t the time to learn any poetry—but he would bring the ring.

This was their first proper argument, and Aaron didn’t dare skimp on the reconciliation. When he did chase after her to fall at her feet and make promises . . . there could be no half measures.

He had to do this with his whole heart—even if it meant risking all.

CHAPTER 13

By the time Diana arrived back in the village center, her hem and slippers were dredged in mud, and the rain had made a proper mop of her hair. With her cloak wrapped tight about her torso, no one could have guessed at the smudges on her frock beneath.

Her swollen eyes and red, sniffling nose could easily be explained away—just products of the damp weather.

She sighed. As always, her delicate health made such a convenient excuse. No one ever had to know if she didn’t wish them to.

As it turned out, she didn’t need excuses just yet. Other concerns had occupied the Queen’s Ruby residents. As the rooming house came into view, Diana saw all the young ladies milling about the front stoop, huddled under the overhang like a clutch of monks in hooded cloaks.

“Oh, there she is.” Charlotte ran to Diana’s side. “Where have you been?”

“I went for a walk.”

“In this?” Her sister tilted her face to the rain, then slid Diana a suspicious look.

“Never mind me. What’s going on here?”

“We’re just about to go over to the Bull and Blossom, all of us.” Charlotte threaded her arm through Diana’s. “Miss Price has insisted they clear the place out and search the rooms. She’s in a tizzy about that brooch. Says it was an heirloom.”

“They’re searching the rooms?”

Mama joined them. Billowing along in her massive black cloak, she looked like a vengeful raven.

“This is an outrage,” she said bitterly. “After two years of living in this rooming house, we are made to endure such suspicion? I gave them leave to search your chamber, Diana.”

“What?”

“There didn’t seem any reason not to. You have nothing to hide. Once that horrid Miss Price is satisfied of the fact, we can put all this absurdity behind us.” She made a noise of disgust. “And all this for that ugly, outmoded brooch. She ought to thank the soul who relieved her of it.”

While Mrs. Nichols and Matilda made a search of the rooming house, all the ladies made the trudge across the village green to the Bull and Blossom, where they settled at every available table. Mama ordered hot tea. Diana wished she dared ask Mr. Fosbury to doctor hers with whiskey. She despised the way all the ladies were staring at her.

She made herself small in her chair and wrapped her cloak tight about her body, praying this would all be over soon.