"Sit down and eat, Major. I sure hope you're hungry."
Cain had to admit it was a great meal. The chicken was fried a gold brown and steam rose from the buttermilk biscuits when he split them open. Even the dandelion greens were richly flavored.
When he'd eaten his fill, he leaned back in the chair. "You didn't do this by yourself."
"'Course I did. Normally Sophronia would have helped, but she's not here."
"Sophronia's the cook?"
"She also looked after me when I was growing up."
"She didn't do a very good job of it."
Those violet eyes narrowed. "I've got half a mind to comment on your upbringing, too."
The food had mellowed him, so this time she didn't get his dander up. "Everything was delicious."
She rose to fetch a bottle of brandy she'd put on the sideboard earlier. "Rosemary hid this before the Yankees came. Thought you might like to have a glass to celebrate your arrival at Risen Glory."
"Trust my mother to take better care of the liquor than she did of her stepdaughter." He took the bottle and began prying out the cork. "How did Risen Glory get its name? It's unusual."
"It happened not long after my granddaddy built the house." Kit leaned against the sideboard. "A Baptist preacher man came to the door askin' for a meal, and even though my grandma was strict Methodist, she fed him. They got to talkin', and when he heard the plantation didn't have a name yet, he said they should call it Risen Glory on account of it was almost Easter Sunday. It's been Risen Glory ever since."
"I see." He fished a piece of cork from his glass of brandy. "I think it's time you tell me what you're doing here."
Her stomach lurched. She watched him take a sip, his eyes staying on her the whole time. He never missed anything.
She moved toward the open doors that led from the dining room to the overgrown garden. It was dark and quiet outside, and she could smell honeysuckle in the night breeze. She loved it all so much. The trees and brooks, the sights and smells. Best of all, she loved watching the fields dance white with cotton. Soon, they'd be that way again.
Slowly she turned back to him. Everything depended on the next few minutes, and she had to do it right. "I came here to make a proposal to you, Major."
"I resigned my commission. Why don't you just call me Baron?"
"If it's all the same, I'll just go on callin' you 'Major'."
"I suppose it's better than some of the other things you've called me." He kicked back in the chair. Unlike a proper Southern gentleman, he'd hadn't worn a cravat to the table, and his collar was open. For a moment she found herself staring at the strong muscles in his neck. She forced herself to look away.
"Tell me about this proposal of yours."
"Weil…" She tried to suck in some air. "As you might of guessed, your part of the bargain would be to hang onto Risen Glory until I can buy it back from you."
"I figured that."
"You wouldn't be stuck with it forever," she hastened to add. "just for five years, until I can get to the money in my trust fund."
He studied her. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. This was going to be the hardest part. "I realize you'd expect somethin' in return."
"Of course."
She hated the flicker of amusement in his eyes. "What I'm preparin' to offer is a little unorthodox. But if you think about it, I know you'll see that it's fair," She gulped.
"Go on."
She squeezed her eyes shut, took a deep breath and let it out. "I'm offerin' to be your mistress."
He choked.
She got the rest out in a rush. "Now, I know this might be taking you by surprise, but even you've got to admit I'm a lot better company than those sorry excuses for females in New York City. I don't giggle and bat my eyes. I couldn't flirt even if I wanted to, and you sure won't ever hear me talkin' about pugs. Best part is, you wouldn't have to worry about goin' to all those balls and stuffy dinner parties most women like. Instead, we could spend our time hunting and fishing and riding horses. We could have a real good time."
Cain started to laugh.
Kit yearned to have her knife back. "You mind tellin' me what you think is so damn humorous?"
He finally managed to control himself. He set down his glass and rose from the table. "Kit, do you know why men keep mistresses?"
"Of course I do. I read The Sybaritic Life of Louis XV."
He regarded her quizzically.
"Madame de Pompadour," she explained. "She was Louis XV's mistress. I got the idea from readin' 'bout her."
She didn't tell him Madame de Pompadour had also been the most powerful woman in France. She'd managed to control the king and the country just by using her wits. Kit could surely manage to control the fate of Risen Glory if she was the major's mistress. Besides, she didn't have anything but herself to bargain with.
Cain started to say something, stopped, shook his head, then downed what was left of his brandy. When he was done, he looked like he was starting to get mad all over again. "Being a man's mistress involves more than hunting and fishing. Do you have any idea what I'm talking about?"
Kit felt herself flush. This was the part she hadn't let herself dwell on, the part the book hadn't covered at all.
Being raised on a plantation had exposed her to the rudimentary facts of animal reproduction, but it had also left her with a lot of questions that Sophronia refused to answer. Kit suspected she didn't have all the details right, but she knew enough to understand the whole process was disgusting. Still, it would have to be part of the bargain. For some reason, mating was important to men, and women were expected to put up with it, although she couldn't imagine Mrs. Cogdell letting the reverend climb up on her back like that.
"I know what you're talkin' about. And I'm prepared to let you mate with me." She glowered. "Even though I'm gonna hate it!"
Cain laughed; then his expression clouded as if he might be thinking about that damn spanking again. He yanked a cheroot from his pocket and stalked out the garden doors to light it.
She followed him outside and found him standing by an old rusty bench, gazing out toward the orchard. She waited for him to say something. When he didn't, she spoke. "Well, what about it?"
"It's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."
The glow from his cheroot cast a flickering shadow over his face, and panic welled inside her. This was her only chance to keep Risen Glory. She had to convince him. "Why is it so ridiculous?"
"Because it is."
"You tell me why!"
"I'm your stepbrother."
"Bein' my stepbrother doesn't mean a damn thing. It's purely a legal relationship."
"I'm also your guardian. I couldn't find a single person in this county who was willing to take you off my hands, and judging by your recent behavior, I guess that's no surprise."
"I'll do better! And I'm a real good shot. I can put all the meat on the table you want."
That started him cussing again. "Men aren't looking for somebody who can put meat on the table when they're choosing a mistress, damn it! They want a woman who looks and acts and smells like a woman."
"I smell real good! Go on. Smell me!" She lifted her arm so he could get a good whiff, but all he cared about was being mad.
"They want a woman who knows how to smile, and say pretty things, and make love. Now, that leaves you out!"
Kit swallowed her last morsel of pride. "I could learn."
"Oh, for God's sake!" He stalked to the other side of the overgrown gravel path. "I've made up my mind."
"Please! Don't-"
"I'm not selling Risen Glory."
"Not sellin'…" Kit couldn't seem to find her breath, and then a great wave of happiness washed over her. "Oh, Major! That's… that's the most wonderful thing I ever heard!"
"Hold on. There's one condition."
Kit felt a sharp prickle of warning. "No conditions! We don't need any conditions."