“You did not say how it went,” she said, slightly breathless from the pace he’d set.

He suddenly stopped, and she nearly crashed into him, and it was all he could do to keep from touching her, steadying her. “What did you think? He’d invite me for tea and biscuits?”

“Well, not biscuits per se,” she said with her usual charm and smile. “Because he’s never been much of a lover of biscuits.” When he continued to glare, her smile dipped, stealing the last bit of light from this day. “Anthony, I was just jesting,” she murmured, stretching a hand toward him.

He recoiled from her touch, jerking himself back before her fingers could land, and he looked frantically toward where her brother now watched.

“You should not be with me,” he whispered furiously. “Because no good can come of it.” Or had ever come from his dealings with this family.

“He did not forgive you,” she whispered, drawing back.

“He did,” he said swiftly, determined to disabuse her of the notion that Rhys was somehow wrong in this. He wasn’t.

He might as well have placed a star in her hands for all the wonder in her eyes. Oh, God. This was too much.

“I have to go, Lettie,” he said, unable to keep the pleading from that pronouncement. He started walking again, his clip brisk.

“When will I see you again?” she asked, falling into step beside him once more.

“Lettie,” he said, and then she gasped, sliding herself in front of him so that he was forced to either bowl her over or stop walking.

“I asked when I will see you again,” she repeated, her eyes glittering.

“You won’t.”

He’d an obligation to honor Rhys in at least this.

Lettie’s entire body jerked. “I don’t understand,” she whispered.

All his frustration, hurt, and regret severed the last shred of his patience. “What did you think, Lettie? That Rhys would gladly have me, the man who was discovered with his betrothed, join you and his children for a fishing excursion?” he snapped, gesturing angrily to where that trio now cast their lines.

She followed his motion and remained more silent than he’d ever known her. Which was good. He needed her silence. It was easier this way.

“But you said he forgave you,” she said in a near-soundless voice.

“He did.” He attempted to step around her.

Lettie matched his movements. “Then why—”

There, he’d said it.

“But you…could,” she ventured hesitantly, and like the Eve she’d been to him these past days, she drifted closer and touched his sleeve.

He stared at her fingers upon him and closed his eyes, battling between what he wanted and what he’d no place having.

It was too much.

Anthony took a step away from her, and her hand fluttered briefly in the air before her arm dropped to her side.