“Encourage me?” Blaise repeated. “You wound me, Little Blossom. You make it sound as though I am here to be trained to fetch.”
“I will not have you eating at my table,” she shot back.
“That would bemytable,” he corrected softly.
Her nostrils flared.
Mrs. Henking’s eyes were moving helplessly between them.
“Mrs. Henkings,” the viscountess said, gentler now but with an edge of command, “this gentleman has broken into my house and is attempting to dislodge me. You will not obey him.”
Blaise laughed brazenly and held up a key. “I cannot break into my own house, Mrs. Henkings.”
“That is not possible!” the viscountess gasped, and he locked the sound of her breathlessness away in the back of his mind. “A bachelor duke looking for a duchess could not possibly have any connection to the title.”
“Mrs. Henkings,” Blaise said over the woman’s faint protest. “Take me to my chambers.”
Disbelief, then a flash of panic, moved across Viscountess Hentley’s face, and Mrs. Henkings flushed.
“I... I do not know where that would be, Your Grace,” the housekeeper stammered.
“Of course, you do not, because he has no chamber here!” the viscountess said with a rage that pleased Blaise. “This is a misunderstanding; I am sure of it. I will speak to Mr. Earnest. Until then, Mrs. Henkings, you will continue to attend me.”
Blaise pushed off the chaise and walked toward the corridor as if the discussion were concluded.
“Where do you think you are going?” She darted after him.
“To find my chambers,” he said, without slowing. “I shall require a place to sleep. Presumably, Hentley did not bed down in the scullery.”
“I forbid you?—”
“You may forbid until you are hoarse.” He turned just enough to let his gaze drift over her flushed face. “I know that until some acrid little clerk places the truth before you, you will not believe me. That is all very well. But I am a man, and a man’s rest will not wait on your enlightenment.”
Her jaw clenched. He took a slow breath, almost tasting her fury. How long had it been since a woman had challenged him?
“Mrs. Henkings,” he called over the viscountess’s shoulder, “kindly show me toachamber.” When the housekeeper hesitated, he arched a brow. “Or I shall find it myself, and I warn you, if I feel like the parlor should be my chamber, then I shall change that room myself. Your viscountess knows all about my taste in décor.”
He winked at Viscountess Hentley, who blushed either from anger or memory.
The forbidden library flickered through his mind, and Blaise felt his manhood stir traitorously as he pictured the scowling viscountess naked and tied up in it.
Perhaps I will build a similar room at Hentley’s.
Mrs. Henkings broke his train of thought. “I apologize, Your Grace, but I do not know what to do.”
The woman looked helplessly at her mistress, who smiled smugly at Blaise.
“That is quite all right.” Blaise feigned resignation, then turned on his heels and walked through the corridor.
“I said no!” the viscountess called after him.
He could hear her hurried footsteps.
“And I said yes,” Blaise said over his shoulder. “We cannot have both a master and a mistress, can we?”
“Then perhaps you might consider leaving it to me,” Viscountess Hentley suggested sweetly.
Blaise turned and caught her toppling body just in time. Her breath hitched as his hands lingered before she shook them off.
