Columbine by MIRANDA JARRETT

crossing, she had clung to an image of Kit Sparhawk that likely didn’t exist. Instead of his scorn and betrayal, she remembered his kindness when he’d come to her defense and how gently he’d held her. And more. She remembered the strange warmth she’d felt when he’d told her–or dared her?—to call him by his given name; how his voice alone had made her tremble, It was.gure foolishness, she reminded herself sternly. Yet, once again in his presence, she felt agitated and unsure, and she wished Captain Welles had stayed.
    “I hope you enjoyed your meal,” she said pointedly, glancing at the empty dishes.
    “I trust Captain Welles has gone to share your bounty with the others. ‘ “He’ll damned well do what I tell him to!” thundered Kit with a fierceness Diauna hadn’t expected, and her own anger flared in response.
    “So it’s you who decides who goes hungry, is it?”
    She stepped closer to stand defiantly before his chair, her hands on her hips.
    “But then, Captain Welles would have nothing to gain from letting others suffer, while you could claim the profit.”
    Kit did not bother to correct her. Though she could not be more wrong about Welles, Kit doubted she’d listen to the truth from him.
    “Why didn’t you come to me sooner?;’ he demanded instead.
    In confusion, Dianna’s thoughts flew back to the last time they’d been together, in the little cabin, and how he’d rejected her.
    “I did not seem to find your favor, Master Sparhawk,” she answered stiffly.
    “God’s blood, I meant come if you’d found fault with your quarters!”
    Dianna’s cheeks flamed with embarrassment and shame. Of course, he hadn’t meant her. There was no graceful way to recover, so instead she rushed on.
    “I came to Captain Welles because I believed he could help. I did not know you Would be here, or I would not have knocked. I am, you see, not accustomed to dealing with men who are not gentlemen.”
    His green eyes narrowed, and his response was washed with sarcasm.
    “Then tell me, my lady, how a gentleman would address these particular
    circumstances. A fine fellow of breeding and fashion. Your uncle, say.”
    Dianna’s dark eyebrows drew sharply together.
    “I do not see—”
    “Oh, aye, I think you do,” he said softly, watching the quickening beat of her pulse at her throat. He was intentionally baiting her, challenging her, though he wasn’t sure why. In a week he would be back in New London, and there would be any number of women, beautiful, uncomplicated women, to welcome him home. But, strangely, he didn’t care.
    Dianna Grey was arrogant and corrupt, and currently quite filthy, yet he couldn’t deny the excitement he’d felt when he’d seen her in the doorway. She’d plagued his thoughts, awake and asleep, ever since they’d cleared London, and he didn’t like it.
    She didn’t flinch beneath his scrutiny, and that irritated him, too. She was too proud by half, this one.
    She looked close to fainting from hunger, yet not once had she asked for food for herself. Although her gown was scarcely more than rags now, She still acted the grand lady, dismissing him as if he wasn’t worth her notice. Maybe that was why he was goading her now, trying to make her as angry with him as he was with her. Slowly he rose from the chair, using his full height to Compel her to look up at him.
    “Now tell me true, my lady,” he continued with deceptive calm.
    “A gentleman like Sir Henry wouldn’t give a crooked farthing for that sorry bunch of pil between deck, and I’m surprised, my lady, that you’ve become their champion. Mayhap you’ve a favorite among the good farmers? I recall now your uncle wasn’t too particular in his pleasures either, was he?”
     
    Dianna gasped.
    “You have no right to speak to me like that—no right at all! The Penhallows and the others welcomed me and accepted me with kindness and without question. Not like you! You can’t forget the tattle and the slander,