““Wiping his hand across his jaw, he shook his head and went back into the library to collect his scattered pride before having to enter the party as if nothing had happened. Staring into the fire, he hoped to commiserate with the only witness of the scene, but instead the flames scolded him with every popping spark. He balked as if the reprimand were audible. What could he have done different? He’d come to apologize, but she wouldn’t give him a chance. Indignation burrowed into his chest as another cheery melody began in the ballroom and fluttered its way down the hall and into the library. Blast. Where was his buoyant spirit, his unyielding vim? Glaring at the fire that still chided him, he pressed the palm of his hand into the smooth wood of the mantel. Of all the women in Sandwich, why did it have to be Kitty who riled him so? Traitorous emotions.””
