An Unexpected Countess. Laurie Benson

don’t be foolish. I’ve wanted to ask you this since the day Augusta was born. You are like a sister to me.’

      ‘You’re certain?’

      ‘Of course, we both are.’ She looked to Julian, who gave Miss Forrester a reassuring smile.

      The women hugged and now it appeared Katrina was tearing up, as well. Oh, hell, he hated to see women cry! He sat back with a sigh and looked across at a life-size portrait of one of Julian’s ancient relatives. From the man’s expression, it appeared he couldn’t abide crying women either. Could he leave now, without causing offence?

      Eager to get away from the emotional display, Hart stood and walked to his friend. ‘I don’t exactly understand your choice,’ he said, shaking his head.

      Julian leaned closer. ‘Katrina insisted on Miss Forrester. They are very close. I couldn’t say no.’

      ‘That wasn’t what I—’

      Julian arched an amused brow, telling him he understood. ‘I think she will be good for you.’

      Hart almost swallowed his tongue. ‘Miss Forrester? I assure you I have no designs—’

      ‘I meant Augusta. Should anything happen to me, I’ll need you to look out for her. Having that responsibility on your shoulders might do you some good.’

      ‘She is your child. Should anything happen to you, of course I would do everything in my power to see she is taken care of. There was no need to go to this measure.’ Augusta slept a great deal from what he could recall of seeing her after she was born. Katrina had told him the only time she really fussed was when she was hungry. They had similar interests.

      ‘In any event, I am honoured you have accepted.’

      Miss Forrester’s voice carried to where they were standing. ‘But what about when I return home? I might never see you or Augusta again.’

      A heavy feeling settled in Hart’s stomach. Was there something wrong with the brandy?

      Katrina rubbed Miss Forrester’s arms. ‘We will not think about that day. And when you do, you will make certain to return for visits. We would be happy to welcome your husband and children into our home.’

      Her husband? Her children? He crossed his arms, recalling their encounter on the rooftop. Was there someone in particular she planned to marry? After all, he had run into her on a rooftop in London in the middle of the night and it was hard to imagine what else she would have been doing other than fleeing an illicit liaison. Common courtesy demanded he should not bring up the subject with her—however, he was curious by nature. He was determined to find out just what Miss Sarah Forrester was about, but first he needed to fetch that damn bracelet.