Page 99 of Cousin Conundrum

“Then I am hardly unexpected.”

“No. You are not.”

He narrowed his eyes at her.

Kitty smirked, daring him to point out her contrariness.

Instead, he accused, “You are making light of me.”

“I am.”

His green eyes glinted. “Why?”

Because she adored conversing with him. How he focused on her with such intensity, as if she were a puzzle he longed to unravel. “Because someone must. You are far too conscientious.”

“Is there such a thing?”

Now he teased her. She could tell by the crinkles around his eyes.

“Oh yes.” Kitty made every effort to sound very serious. “I believe it is a medical condition. Quite dire. You should see a doctor.”

“Not Mr. Jones?”

“I do not believe he is up to the task. Your condition is very severe.”

“Am I contagious?”

She shook her head. “I am immune.”

“Then I may be permitted to take you down to the drawing room?”

She paused, giving his request due consideration, as if being carried around by Mr. Fletcher hadn’t become her favorite part of the day. “You may.”

Taking a half step into her room, the maid behind him watching with the bored expression of someone assigned a task they deemed pointless, Mr. Fletcher scooped Kitty up. Attempting to marshal her expression into proper indifference, she draped her arms about his neck.

It was all she could do not to snuggle into his broad chest. She should have found a means to cut her soles to ribbons ages ago. Of course, ages ago, Mr. Fletcher hadn’t been around to carry her, and she supposed hurting her feet any other way wouldn’t have impressed him nearly as much. More likely, any other means of achieving her current inability to walk would have made her seem quite mad.

“You know, I am certain a footman could carry me,” Kitty said as he strode down the hall without evidencing discernable effort. She loved how strong he was. Him carrying her would feel quite romantic if she ignored the heavy bandages on her feet and the lighter ones on her hand.

“I would not relinquish the honor.” He slanted a look at her. He was always careful never to turn his face to hers.

Still, she read worry in that look. “What is it?”

“I am afraid I must return to London with Mr. Partridge. Hurst and I will speak today, but we must also deliver our testimonies in person.”

“Oh.” Sorrow washed through Kitty. “So I truly will need to rely on a footman.” She sighed. “Could you not remain until my feet are healed?”

“Mr. Jones said that may not be for a month. Perhaps longer.”

Kitty smiled. “I know.”

His gaze darted to hers again. The muscles in his arms tightened as they started down the broad staircase. Because the thought of leaving her made him want to hold her tighter, or the thought of dropping her did? Kitty wished she knew.

“I cannot be away from my duties for a month.”

Did he sound sad? Kitty was.

The maid still following, Mr. Fletcher took Kitty into a drawing room they never used, making her wonder if Miss Bingley didn’t wish to deliver her account in her favorite room. That made sense. Why taint a space she enjoyed spending time in with the unpleasantness of being abducted?