because the painter must be bloody blind. Where did the fool learn to paint?”
She winced. She knew she didn’t look much like the woman in the painting, but it stung to have it confirmed.
He caught her chin. “No, you are genuinely upset by this. Shall I toss it into the fire?”
She exhaled. “It’s too late. You have already seen it.”
I an was very rarely at a loss, but he was now. Why did it matter that he’d seen the ridiculous thing? A disturbing thought occurred to him. “You cannot think I’d prefer that woodland tart to you.”
Juliana gave a choked snort.
“You do. Well, let me tell you. Her hair’s been mussed from a tumble with some woodcutter in the woods. Her cheeks are flushed from over-imbibing on wine. And her left arm is at a completely unnatural angle.”
A ghost of a smile crossed her lips, then faded.
“What happened to the woman triumphant at claiming her biscuits?”
Ian had the feeling she was weighing her response. He fully expected her to decline to answer. After all, he rarely came out ahead in these types of considerations.
“I cannot set foot in my homeland. I cannot give my people funds for seeds for planting. I cannot stop the French who are gathering on my borders. I cannot get the Spanish to listen to me. I cannot even get my own brother to listen. And apparently I cannot even look like a princess!” The words came out in an angry rush. “And now you’ve seen it and know what a bloody failure I am at everything. And you’re the one person I thought I didn’t have to impress, and yet I find I care immensely—” She set her lips in a hard line, and whirled away.
He should let this moment lengthen. He should make things awkward between them. Make her understand that her feelings were foolish.
Instead, he placed his hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him.
“You spend every moment of the day carrying the burdens of an entire nation. Yet you have never once shirked. You’re willing to rob a madman to protect your brother. You’re brave and stubborn and clever. You’re more of a princess than any country could hope for.” Let it go there. Step away . But his damned fool mouth kept moving. “You’re far more of a woman than any man could dream of. You’re witty and charming. And your kisses set me afire.”
Her gaze dropped to his lips. Why the devil had he mentioned kisses? He needed to back away. If she kissed him now, things would end with him buried deep between those slender thighs. He was an expert at always finding alternatives. But he knew if he tasted her mouth again, he would not stop. Even sharing the same air with her seemed like the most erotic thing he’d ever done. To press his lips to her throat. To feel her tongue slip between his lips—
“And you pilfer a man biscuits,” he managed.
Her eyes lifted to the biscuits a few feet away, and Ian retreated, drinking air into his lungs and trying to bring his anatomy back under control.
“Thank you for listening to my foolishness,” Juliana said.
“Nothing you say will ever be foolish. Now shall we eat your prize?”
Amusement entered back into her gaze and she passed him a plate. “So, am I ready to rob a madman now?”
Ian found the cookies strangely unappetizing. But he put two in his pocket for later. “Yes, I think you are.”
But he wouldn’t let her.
She could steal the documents, but she shouldn’t have to. She was good. Pure. While Ian was already a creature of the gutter.
He’d find out what her blasted brother had done, then steal the evidence back himself.
Chapter Eighteen
“W ait. Pardon?” Juliana asked. She must have misheard. After all, the coaching yard of the inn was incredibly noisy. “My maid eloped with Gregory’s new valet? The footman that replaced his old valet?” The footman had only been elevated to the position yesterday.
“Yes!” Constantina said. “They snuck away together when we stopped in Cambry for tea.” Her aunt waved her
She winced. She knew she didn’t look much like the woman in the painting, but it stung to have it confirmed.
He caught her chin. “No, you are genuinely upset by this. Shall I toss it into the fire?”
She exhaled. “It’s too late. You have already seen it.”
I an was very rarely at a loss, but he was now. Why did it matter that he’d seen the ridiculous thing? A disturbing thought occurred to him. “You cannot think I’d prefer that woodland tart to you.”
Juliana gave a choked snort.
“You do. Well, let me tell you. Her hair’s been mussed from a tumble with some woodcutter in the woods. Her cheeks are flushed from over-imbibing on wine. And her left arm is at a completely unnatural angle.”
A ghost of a smile crossed her lips, then faded.
“What happened to the woman triumphant at claiming her biscuits?”
Ian had the feeling she was weighing her response. He fully expected her to decline to answer. After all, he rarely came out ahead in these types of considerations.
“I cannot set foot in my homeland. I cannot give my people funds for seeds for planting. I cannot stop the French who are gathering on my borders. I cannot get the Spanish to listen to me. I cannot even get my own brother to listen. And apparently I cannot even look like a princess!” The words came out in an angry rush. “And now you’ve seen it and know what a bloody failure I am at everything. And you’re the one person I thought I didn’t have to impress, and yet I find I care immensely—” She set her lips in a hard line, and whirled away.
He should let this moment lengthen. He should make things awkward between them. Make her understand that her feelings were foolish.
Instead, he placed his hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him.
“You spend every moment of the day carrying the burdens of an entire nation. Yet you have never once shirked. You’re willing to rob a madman to protect your brother. You’re brave and stubborn and clever. You’re more of a princess than any country could hope for.” Let it go there. Step away . But his damned fool mouth kept moving. “You’re far more of a woman than any man could dream of. You’re witty and charming. And your kisses set me afire.”
Her gaze dropped to his lips. Why the devil had he mentioned kisses? He needed to back away. If she kissed him now, things would end with him buried deep between those slender thighs. He was an expert at always finding alternatives. But he knew if he tasted her mouth again, he would not stop. Even sharing the same air with her seemed like the most erotic thing he’d ever done. To press his lips to her throat. To feel her tongue slip between his lips—
“And you pilfer a man biscuits,” he managed.
Her eyes lifted to the biscuits a few feet away, and Ian retreated, drinking air into his lungs and trying to bring his anatomy back under control.
“Thank you for listening to my foolishness,” Juliana said.
“Nothing you say will ever be foolish. Now shall we eat your prize?”
Amusement entered back into her gaze and she passed him a plate. “So, am I ready to rob a madman now?”
Ian found the cookies strangely unappetizing. But he put two in his pocket for later. “Yes, I think you are.”
But he wouldn’t let her.
She could steal the documents, but she shouldn’t have to. She was good. Pure. While Ian was already a creature of the gutter.
He’d find out what her blasted brother had done, then steal the evidence back himself.
Chapter Eighteen
“W ait. Pardon?” Juliana asked. She must have misheard. After all, the coaching yard of the inn was incredibly noisy. “My maid eloped with Gregory’s new valet? The footman that replaced his old valet?” The footman had only been elevated to the position yesterday.
“Yes!” Constantina said. “They snuck away together when we stopped in Cambry for tea.” Her aunt waved her
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