Then he strode to the door, opened it, and waited there. For the first time, Nathaniel saw indecision and something like guilt on Jennet's face. Finally she got up gracefully.

“If you'll pardon me,” she said. “I apologize for the rude interruption. My lady mother and his took pains to teach him manners, truly they did.” She walked to the door without hurry, nodded to Luke as a queen might nod to a lesser being, and went out onto the porch.

Luke said, “I'll be back. Don't make any decisions without me.” And he shut the door behind him.

Jennet walked fast, but she couldn't say exactly why. It wasn't as if she had anything to fear from Luke Bonner; she was no longer a schoolgirl to be scolded, after all. He was just a few steps behind her when she rounded on him suddenly to say just that, but he took her elbow and kept her moving.

“Wait,” he said.

“For what?” she asked sharply. “If you're planning to beat me, Luke Bonner, I assure you they'll hear my screams on the Solway Firth.”

It was not a good sign that he had nothing to say to that, and in fact Jennet had rarely seen Luke so angry. His whole body trembled with it, but while the look he gave her would have made most men reach for a weapon, Jennet found herself oddly at peace. How many weeks now had she been waiting for him to show his feelings? If it must come out in a temper, so be it.

She let herself be propelled across the clearing to a corner of the fallow cornfield that smelled vaguely of fish. There they were out of sight of the cabins, and there he let her go, abruptly.

“What in God's name were you thinking?” he thundered, thrusting his face toward her. “Putting Ballentyne up to such foolishness!”

At that she had no choice but to laugh. “First of all, there's no need to shout at me like a banshee. And second, I put Simon up to nothing at all. Do you think I cast a spell and made him fall in love with your sister?”

Luke ran a hand through his hair, turned away in frustration and back again. “You read his fortune in those damn cards of yours,” he said in a voice that was only a little calmer. “You said he was lonely!”

“And so he is!” Jennet said, drawing herself up. “Something you could see for yourself, if ever you thought to look. And if I did, what then?” She poked him in the chest so that he took a step backward. “You said yourself that the cards are naught but foolishness.”

“You put the idea in his head,” Luke said, but some of his bluster had gone.

“Ach, ye great gomerel. Did you not tell me yourself Simon was in love with your sister? And had you not said a word it would make no difference. Anybody with eyes can see for himself the way Simon looks at Lily. Much in the same way you look at me, Luke Bonner, try as you like to deny it.”

He went very still then, his jaw working hard. There was a faint buzzing in her ears because she saw something new in his expression: reluctant agreement.

Finally he said, “You have to talk her out of it.”

Jennet shook her head to clear it. “Talk Lily out of what? Out of going away from here? A fine bit of hypocrisy that would be, and should it be possible.”

“Talk her out of marrying Simon Ballentyne,” Luke said, his voice dropping to a whisper, one that was meant to intimidate and in fact would intimidate almost anyone else.

Jennet met his gaze directly and matched his tone. “And why shouldn't she marry him? He's a good man, is he no?”

“Jennet Scott,” Luke said slowly. “You of all people know what it means to marry where there's no love.”

She slapped him then, in her surprise and anger and frustration. Before her hand had left his face he had grabbed her by the wrist to keep her from running away, and though she might twist and yank she would be going nowhere until Luke decided to let her go. Neither would he bring her close enough to really touch.

“How dare you.” Her voice was trembling but she couldn't help it. “How dare you throw that up to me.”

“In battle a man uses the weapons to hand,” he said. “And in this case the truth is all I've got. You can talk her out of this foolishness, Jennet. She doesn't know Simon Ballentyne.”

“Is he a murderer then, a thief, an abuser of women?” She looked pointedly at her wrist caught up in the manacle he made of his hand.

“Don't be ridiculous.”

“Then she must make up her own mind.”

He pulled her closer. “Christ, girl, do you have any idea what you're asking?”

She stilled and for a moment there was just the heated silence while they struggled, each of them, to calm their breathing.

“If you don't want her to marry, then you must agree to take her to Montreal,” Jennet said finally. “It's only because you took it upon yourself to make that decision for her that she's in there, right this very moment, considering taking Simon as husband.”

He let her go suddenly but he didn't step back. “You did plan this.”

“You're just angry because you can't have your way. Admit it, man, and be done with it. You can't force your sister to do your will, and you can't control me, and no more can you wish away the way you feel about me.”

And because he was so close, and because she was so angry, Jennet slung her arms around his neck and kissed him with all the fury in her. For a moment his hands were on her waist and he was holding her and he kissed her back, really kissed her and she tasted it on his mouth, the rightness of it.