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boy. I like it here. The fresh air, the scenery…” he raised his eyebrows significantly in the direction of the terrace, where Kate was strolling with her cousin “. . .the charming company.”

He took another sip of port and added ironically, “Oh, and of course you are a superlative host, Jack, old man. Make a chap feel so welcome.”

Jack growled under his breath. “A man can’t take a step in any direction without tripping over you or that damned Cole fellow.” He glared at a hapless vase of flowers. “And the place is so cluttered up with these stinking weeds! Haven’t either of you anything better to waste your blunt on? I don’t know which of you is worse—that blasted Cit bleating platitudes all over Kate and kissing her hand until it must be quite soggy—or you, mouthing flowery compliments at her like a blasted poet.”

“I do pride myself on my poetic talents, and little Kate seems to enjoy them too.”

“Little Kate? Miss Farleigh to you! I’ll thank you not to treat my grandmother’s ward with such familiarity, Francis.”

Francis’s grin broadened. “She asked me to call her Kate, dear boy, and I hate to refuse a lady’s request.”

Jack muttered something unintelligible and stomped out of the library, leaving Francis chuckling. Jack had been acting like a bear with a sore head for several weeks now, snapping and snarling at his guests for no good reason. Or no reason he could be brought to admit to.

Francis’s gaze sharpened on the pair on the terrace. His own so-called courtship posed no danger to Jack, but that Cole fellow was a serious contender. He had visited Kate morning and afternoon for the past three weeks, bringing her flowers, books and sweetmeats, though where he found the flowers at this time of year, and in the countryside, was more than Francis could guess. The man was obviously very plump in the pocket.

Francis frowned. He liked the fellow no better than Jack, though not for the same reasons. There was a pushiness about him that Francis disliked. Cole had pursued Kate from the moment they met with a single-mindedness and determination that to Francis’s eye smacked of the calculating, rather than the lover-like. His possessive attitude towards his “charming little cousin’ was increasing daily, and Francis suspected that Kate was finding it uncomfortable.

However, Jack’s open hostility to the man made it difficult for Kate to repel her cousin’s over-familiarity, for’they all knew Jack was just itching for any excuse to toss Cole out on his ear and forbid him the house. Cole was Kate’s cousin, after all, and her only living relative, and she wanted to be able to see him, even if she might not relish his possessive attitude towards her. Francis sighed and poured himself another drink.

“My dearest cousin,” Jeremiah Cole began.

Kate felt her stomach sinking. She’d known for some time that this was coming, and no amount of hinting had managed to dent her cousin’s obvious determination. Perhaps it was better to allow him to speak, and then it would be over. He took her hands in a moist grip.

“Perhaps you have been aware these last weeks of my desire, my very ardent desire, to make this relationship of ours a closer one.”

“Cousin Jeremiah, I am very happy to have you as my cousin—”

“But I am not,” he interrupted. “You must know, Kate, how I feel about you.” He pressed her hands against his broad chest. Kate tried to pull them away, but he only held them more tightly. “I am in love with you, Kate—madly, desperately—and I want you for my wife.”

“Cousin Jeremiah,” she said gently, “it is very kind—”

“Kind! It is not kindness I feel for you, my beloved. It is love! I want you to be mine. You are all alone in the world. Allow me to care for you, to protect you, to love you for the rest of your life. Only give me your hand, sweet Kate.”

Despite the seriousness of the moment, Kate’s sense of humour got the better of her. 1 ‘Indeed, Cousin Jeremiah, you seem to have taken it whether I will or not,” she said, tugging to release her hands from his grip. He did not let go, but smiled, almost angrily, at her.

She said more firmly, “Please let me go, Cousin Jeremiah. You are hurting me.”

“And you are hurting me, Kate, by not answering. I asked you a question, one of the most important questions you will ever be asked in your life. Will you be my wife?”

“No, Cousin Jeremiah,” she said gently. “I am sorry.”

He frowned at her disbelievingly. “I don’t believe it!” he said, releasing her hands only to take her shoulder in a tight grip. “I don’t beheve it!” he repeated, shaking her quite hard. “I love you and I am sure that you love me.” His tone softened. “That is it, isn’t it, Kate? You are teasing me.” He pulled her hard against him and though Kate tried to push him away he was far too strong.

“Naughty girl to tease your Jeremiah like that,” he crooned, and before Kate realised what he was about he had planted his lips firmly over hers and was kissing her with a wet determination that filled her with revulsion. She struggled in vain as his hands stroked down her body and his thick tongue probed to enter her mouth.

Suddenly she found herself released. She staggered back against the balustrade as Jack thrust himself between her and her cousin.

“You filthy swine, keep your paws off her!” he roared, and let swing a punch that sent Cousin Jeremiah sprawling inelegantly on the flagstones. Jack stood over him, rolling up his sleeves, the light of battle fairly blazing from his eyes.

“How dare you maul a decent girl, you cowardly scum?”

Cousin Jeremiah scuttled backwards.

“Come on, you scurvy blighter. It’s one thing to bully a helpless female, and another to stand up to a man, isn’t it? Subject an innocent girl to your filthy lust, will you? Not

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