“Don’t be so dramatic, Hartley. I outranked you in the army, and I outrank you now. I chose not to abide by your orders.”
“How dare you invade my house—”
“Before your tirade continues,” Richard interrupted, “perhaps you might greet your guests.” He pointed to the other side of the room.
Guests? Who would come see the Beast of Bath?
Lady Dalling stood and curtseyed to the earl, even though she outranked him. “Lord Hartley, I thought I’d come to you, since you’ve refused to answer any of my invitations these past two years.”
Hartley wanted to throttle someone, most especially his army buddies, but of course, he couldn’t in the presence of themarchioness. His training and good breeding kicked in. “Lady Dalling, I see you’ve come to my home without an express invitation. It’s badly done of you,” he said with a bow.
She chuckled. “You need not worry, Lord Hartley. My cook has prepared a lovely selection for tea.”
“How dare you impose on my staff!
“No imposition at all, my lord. Mrs. Morrison has sent over everything except the hot water. Your staff will not be inconvenienced at all,” Lady Dalling said.
Hartley was at the edge of his patience. “It doesn’t matter. You can leave now. I will not be joining you for tea.”
Lady Dalling stepped aside. “Perhaps you might reconsider. After all, I’ve brought my granddaughter with me today.”
“I don’t care who—” Hartley stopped in mid-sentence when he saw the raven-haired beauty who’d been haunting his dreams standing beside the marchioness. She must have been standing off to the side, and he hadn’t noticed her. It took several seconds before he could close his mouth, the shock was so great. “You’re Lady Dalling’s granddaughter?”
“Yes, I am. Good day, Lord Hartley. I’m Lady Harriet,” she said with a deep curtsy.
Lady Harriet. Now his siren had a name!
Hartley stood stock-still, drinking in her loveliness. She met his eyes and didn’t look away, daring him to ask her to leave. She was every inch a goddess, a wild and beautiful goddess, and much against his better judgment, he wanted her to stay.
“Lady Harriet, Lady Dalling, I see I have no choice but to allow you to stay for a visit,” he said reluctantly. “Please join us over here.”
His cook, Mrs. Bentley, wheeled in the tea cart and nodded to Lady Dalling as the two women took seats by the fireplace.
“That looks lovely,” Lady Dalling said.
“Will there be anything else, my lady?” Mrs. Bentley asked.
“No. Thank you for your assistance preparing the tea.”
Mrs. Bentley curtseyed before exiting the room without another word.
Richard and George joined Hartley while Lady Harriet poured out the tea. “Lord Hartley, how do you like your tea?”
“Black.”
When Harriet passed him the cup, their hands brushed against each other. A powerful jolt of something Jon had never experienced before traveled up his arm and warmed his insides. He felt so alive. What was it about this young lady that he couldn’t dismiss out of hand, as much as he’d like to? Perhaps being in her company more often would diminish his obsession with her although he wasn’t even sure about that. After all, why would such a beauty, with her sparkling blue-gray eyes and lush curves, want to be with a beast like him?
“Your garden is quite overgrown, my lord,” Harriet said. “Don’t you have a gardener?”
Hartley’s gaze swung to her. She was quite bold for a properly reared young lady, but he rather liked it. He’d never met her equal, even among the widows who had made their intentions crystal clear that they wanted him in their beds. Of course, all those invitations happened before he went to war. “I fired him.”
Her eyes widened at his comment. “That wasn’t the best course of action, I think, especially now that your garden is vastly overgrown.”
“That’s true, Lady Harriet, but I like my solitude. I don’t need a perfectly landscaped garden—the wildness suits me well.”
Richard chuckled.
“You have something to say, Evans?” Hartley asked, directing a fierce scowl at his friend.
