Summer buried her face in her hands, overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. “I spoke out of place, my lord. I am sorry.” She wished he would just go, stop tempting her with the prospect of escape. Stop tempting her, period. She had never felt this way about anyone before — certainly not the pestiferous and loathsome Sir Kit.
“Don’t call me that!” he whispered fiercely in obvious agitation and turned away, sighing as he gazed up at the heavens for help. And then, the idea filled in his mind and refused to budge, and he wondered if she’d hate him for it, or if she could forgive him in time. “What happens to the children if you’re not around, Summer?”
“Why, nothing.” She lifted her face from her hands to gaze at him in shock. Did he truly not understand? “I stay in the village because I am commanded to, not because the children need me to.”