Free His Heart's Revenge (The Marshall Brothers Series, Book 2) by Jo Goodman

time to leave.
    * * *
    Through a series of splinter-like cracks in the planking, Logan watched Mary Catherine and her aunt leave for church. His stomach growled. He bit the inside of his cheek in an attempt to forget the empty feeling in his gut. Mary Catherine had not returned any time last evening with dinner for him. He noted her absence, wondering if she was being spiteful. If he had known she wasn't coming back, he could have left under cover of night.
    Moving away from the side of the barn, Logan collected his belongings. The clothes he arrived in were folded and placed in one of the horse blankets. His lacquered box of odds and ends now held a deck of playing cards and a razor, both courtesy of Mary Catherine.
    Logan had one foot on the top rung of the ladder when Brutus's mad dash into the barn halted him. He didn't wait to see if the dog was in pursuit of the gray tabby or if Brutus was being followed. Dropping his things, Logan quickly retreated out of sight. He held his breath, waiting.
    "Brutus, stop that! Bad dog!"
    It was Mary Catherine. Logan's breath rushed out of him when he heard her laughter and scolding. He kicked at the things he had dropped, pushing them out of the way. He sat down on the floor of the loft, leaned back against a bale of hay, and tried to look relaxed instead of frustrated.
    Mary Catherine cleared the top of the ladder and stood at the edge of the loft. She wondered if she looked as uncertain as she felt. It was important to appear confident or Logan would never cooperate.
    God, Logan thought, she was exquisite. His lids lowered fractionally to hide the very real interest in his survey. Katy's honey-colored mane was tamed in a smooth chignon and dressed with tiny curls across her forehead. Drawn up and back, the style displayed the lovely curve of her ears and the slender line of her long throat. The cotton sateen material of her gown had faded from deep sapphire, which was still hinted at around the cuffs, to blue-gray. Although the dress was plain and obviously well worn, Mary Catherine's beauty was hardly diminished by it. His eyes were drawn to her as they would be to a precious stone resting against a black velvet background.
    "What are you doing here?" he asked in a husky voice. "Shouldn't you be at church?"
    Mary Catherine's weight shifted slightly. She nervously smoothed the skirt of her gown over her steel cage crinoline. "I wanted to see you." She walked toward him, her steps tentative, uncertain. At its base her gown was four feet across. It swayed gently as she approached. "Before you leave tomorrow."
    "You promised to feed me after church," he reminded her.
    "Yes, I know, but I've come on another matter." She looked down at her hands, which were pleating and unpleating folds in her skirt. "Last night I was thinking—actually I've been thinking about it for some time—and I was wondering... well, would you mind terribly—that is, do you think you could—I mean it would set my mind at ease, and I wouldn't have this feeling that I was, I don't know, missing something. I do not plan to marry, and it has nothing at all to do with the fact that most of the young men are gone. I am not so shallow as Cecily Fairburn and Jane Graves. I do not think a woman really has to marry any longer, do you? I think I can manage quite well on my own, only I do not want to miss the experience, you see. And I am not too young. Pamela Courtland is my age, and she is a widow."
    Somewhere in the middle of her speech a shutter had lowered over Logan's eyes. "Somehow you've managed to say quite a lot and very little—all at the same time," he said dryly. He refused to encourage her. He was not so dense that he couldn't hear what she was not saying and her suggestion bordered on madness. "Take your leave, Katy. Your aunt must be wondering what's become of you."
    Logan's patronizing tone rankled. Mary Catherine's spine stiffened and her jaw went rigid. "Aunt Peggy isn't expecting me. I pretended to