"It was mostly a misunderstanding, Ian," Laura said unsteadily. "Emery proposed, and I guess I didn't make it clear enough that I wasn't interested."
Emery sat up, arms folded over his injured stomach, his face ashen. "I'm sorry, Laura," he gasped. "I didn't mean to frighten you, but I was overcome by the force of my feelings." He lifted his gaze to Ian. "You have every right to chastise me, sir, for my conduct was unpardonable."
"Yes, it was," Ian agreed caustically. "Infatuation is no excuse for assault."
Laura intervened again. Emery had given her a few bad moments, but his feelings were genuine and his intentions honorable.
She knelt by the sofa. "You've paid me a great compliment, Emery, but I can't marry you. I should have said so sooner, but I didn't want to jeopardize our friendship."
"Can you forgive the insult I offered you?" he asked, his expression wretched.
"It was not meant as an insult, so no forgiveness is needed.'' She stood, sorry that he was hurting. Though his love for her might be rooted in the fact that she was the only eligible European female in the district, she would not demean his feelings by saying that. "We'll forget what happened today. I won't speak of it, and neither will Major Cameron."
With a feeble attempt at humor, Emery said, "My stomach won't forget in a hurry. You have a punch like a mule, Major Cameron." After a pause, he stammered, "Thank you for stopping me. For as long as I live, I'll never forgive myself for frightening Miss Stephenson."
"Let's not have an orgy of guilt," Ian said dryly. "Just don't forget yourself like this with another girl."
With what dignity he could muster, Emery left the bungalow. As soon as he was gone, Ian moved toward Laura, concern on his face. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine." Though she longed to go into his arms for comfort, in her present state, she didn't dare. Sinking onto the sofa, she buried her face in her hands. Dear God, how could she have enjoyed the embrace of a man she didn't love, especially when she had spent the last week mooning over Ian Cameron? She really was shameless.
When she had regained her control, she lifted her head again. "That was my fault. I've always been able to keep Emery from being difficult, but today I was careless."
His brows raised. "Don't blame yourself. That young idiot was the one who was out of line."
She smiled humorlessly. "Yes, but they say that men are more prey to their passions. It's a woman's responsibility not to say or do anything that might be misinterpreted."
"You're hard on your own sex." He studied her face, frowning. "I'd come to say good-bye, but perhaps it will be better if I return tomorrow, when you've had time to recover from your experience. If you take an early morning ride, may I join you?"
Surprised, she said, "Aren't you leaving in the morning?"
"There's no need to go first thing." He was watching her with a strange intensity that was a little unnerving. Laura turned away, thinking that he only wanted to assure himself that she had recovered from the scene with Emery.
After settling what time he should come for her, Laura resumed her work with an inward sigh. Earlier in the day she had wisely decided not to prolong their parting. Yet here she was, willing to do just that.
Where attractive men were concerned, she really had no willpower at all.
Chapter 9
Ian's emotions were churning as he rode away from Laura's bungalow. Deliberately he chose a route leading away from the town, for he was not ready to return to the McKittricks' bungalow. He needed time to think.
Part of his turmoil was simple fury at the way Laura had been mauled by her overeager suitor. He could not remember the last time he had been so angry. Lucky that Laura stopped him before he broke the young fool's neck.
Even more disturbing than anger was the notion that struck Ian after Emery had left. It was an idea so outrageous that it shamed him, yet it was irresistibly appealing and made a bizarre sort of sense.
Laura had made it clear that she didn't wish to marry. Based on what he had seen, her resolution was almost certainly rooted in a distaste for physical contact with men. He had not realized that when he first met her, for she had been relaxed and accepting with him.
She had also been in a state of shock because of her father's death, and that had affected her usual behavior. At least, that was what Ian now deduced, for she had withdrawn physically as she regained her normal equilibrium.
She had not withdrawn mentally. On the journey to Baipur, she had been the best of companions, willing to talk when he was, but entirely comfortable with long silences.
Yet she did not like being touched, for she avoided even the most casual of contacts. She had tried to make her withdrawal unobtrusive, but he had noticed immediately.