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Anger transmuted her. “How dare you spy on things for these last six months?”
A lopsided smile enhanced his features even more. “It’s my duty to watch over what’s mine, my lady.” His eyes implying that he considered a great many things his.
Barely five minutes and the damn woman already cracked his hard won peace! He’d been travelling restless across Europe to give them some time after the unexpected passing of his uncle. He counted the days, the hours, the seconds to come back and see her again. The “warm” welcome he received didn’t improve his frame of mind.
She had adopted the half-mourning now, wearing a grey dress, with white lace on the neckline and long sleeves. She looked even more delightful than before.
“Furthermore, I had to be sure about” he stopped, his gaze falling meaningfully to her slim middle, “certain matters.” He smiled blandly.
He heard her inhale pointedly and her eyes darted fire. Oh dear, maybe it would be better to sit down behind the desk, because she already aroused him.
“As you can see, there are no…matters that concern you.” End of quiet life, she thought, stiffening a frustrated sigh.
“Everything concerns me, my lady.” Especially her. He didn’t know what he would have done if she’d been with child, the very evidence of…of what he’d avoided thinking about as death itself. No, don’t go there!
She breathed deeply, sat down on an armchair, seeming to force herself to calm down. Yes, that’s what he should do too. How? He sat on the sofa, in deference to her.
“Where are you staying, by the way?” Her hands neatly folded on her lap, she looked at him like a civilized lady.
“Here,” he answered in an obvious tone. “I asked Jenkins to prepare the master’s chamber, formerly my uncle’s, as you know.” Casually, he crossed his legs, pretending to adjust his cravat, albeit observing her closely.
She blanched and her stance spelt indignation. “You can’t!” As if remembering herself. “I mean, it’s not proper.”
He didn’t move, didn’t change his expression. “The dukes of Crompton stay at Crompton house, when in London, as usual.” Oh, how he loved baiting her, watching her beautiful face change stances, her delectable bosom rise and fall, seeking control. It brought spice to his life. To the utterly dissatisfying life he’d had so far.
“I should request you to re-think this arrangement.” She contemporized, desperate with the idea of staying in the same house as he. She’d have to move to another room, naturally. Hers and his had a connecting door, supposed for husband and wife, she blushed at the thought. She had ceased to be a wife, though, and should have done it before, b
ut he had…evaporated. She’d kept things unchanged, procrastinating. Not very smart of her.
“I’ll will move out, then.” She could rent something more appropriate.
“Oh, no you won’t!” He ordered all too matter-of-factly. “The dowager duchess stays in her former husband’s house. That’s the custom!”
She could not argue with him on that. She’d have her things moved to another room in no time. “If you excuse me.” She stood up and rose on her feet.
“I informed Jenkins that your room will remain the same.” His rich velvet voice dripped command.
She turned abruptly to him, her eyes shooting fury. “How dare you?”
His brows rose sardonically. “I am the duke, I can dare anything.”
“You devil!” Was all she could blurt.
“Witch.” And smiled saccharine.
She left the room before she gave in to the impulse of punching him.
As soon as she left, his smile died. It seemed like she would give him a hard time…and a hard other things as well. He’d keep her close though. Very close…the closest possible. At last, he relaxed and sat back. Home, sweet home.
If the devil thought he would direct her life as he wished, he’d be very disappointed. Because he wouldn’t.
She rang for her lady’s maid, Nell, and together, they moved her things to a room on the opposite wing. The poor girl, worried, said that those hadn’t been the duke’s orders. Selene convinced the girl that she’d talk to the duke.
“So you decided to change rooms anyway?” They sat at the long table at dinner, he at one end and she at the other. He drank his wine, watching her.
Food served, he dismissed the footmen.
“Yes. Propriety is still in fashion.” She raised her eyes to him, his eyes attentive on her, her skin prickled. The candlelight on the table tinted the room in warm reddish colour and conferred an air of cosy intimacy, despite the distance between them.
