Page 2 of Miss Ellis Unleashed

Throsby had managed to chase away those who were left, glowering like the beast he had always been because they did not meet with his approval.

As if summoned by her thought, the viscount burst into the room without knocking, but after four years, Daisy was prepared for such interruptions. She did not look up and complain about his lack of manners. A true gentleman would have knocked, but her guardian deemed himself above such things. Besides, what would be the point of complaining now? It was the last day he could ever attempt to catch her ignoring the rules of proper society with a suitor who had slipped past his guard.

He sputtered, caught by surprise by the presence of a duchess at Daisy’s side. “Oh, forgive me, your grace, I was not informed you were visiting.”

Gabby stood. “I was just on my way home again, Lord Throsby. Until tomorrow, Daisy.”

Daisy sighed, disappointed that Gabby’s visit was to be shorter than her last.

She said goodbye to her friend and watched her waltz out of the room. Daisy resumed her interest in the paper as if the viscount wasn’t there.

“I did not mean to interrupt,” he murmured.

“Think nothing of it,” Daisy answered in an offhand way meant to convey that he surely had.

He cleared his throat loudly to get her attention. “Any other callers of note today?”

She cocked her head to the side, annoyed by the question that surely had to be about potential suitors, and turned the page. “The king called to ask for my hand in marriage. Gabby thinks I should accept.”

Throsby scoffed. “The king is already married and not presently in London. You both know that.”

Throsby’s sense of humor had always been deficient. She closed her eyes and easily imagined his expression right now. He would be wearing a scowl. He always did. Just as he always wore a pristine white shirt, and a navy-blue coat and waistcoat over fawn breeches at this time of day.

His face would be clean-shaven, his hair cut too short, and a plain pocket watch and chain would be draped just above his waist. Understated, night and day. That was her guardian. The man did nothing to draw attention to himself. He was the sort of man women barely looked at twice.

Throsby cleared his throat again. “Will you ever be done with that paper?”

“I assure you I am reading as fast as I can,” she promised him.

“With your eyes closed?”

Daisy glanced up at him. Yes, he was exactly as she’d imagined. The man never changed. Throsby was positively glowering at her, too, and Daisy’s satisfaction in the day increased to see that reaction. She rather enjoyed upsetting Throsby morning noon and night.

She smiled slowly but out of habit rather than fondness for the viscount looming over her. “They were not closed. I was concentrating.”

Throsby snorted but did not call her a liar outright. He was undoubtedly thinking it, though.

Over the years of the guardianship, Daisy had developed a remarkable desire to annoy this man and had discovered what irritated him most of all was a lack of interest in complying with his demands.

Appearing to take all day to read the news sheet was just one of a number she routinely employed to irk him. She took great delight in unsettling him with her other quiet rebellions, too. The best was adjusting her garter in front of him and flashing her stocking-covered ankle. She reserved that for dire emergencies, when she wanted Throsby to leave the house in a tearing hurry.

The viscount appeared easily flustered by a glimpse of stocking, especially hers.

Daisy returned to reading the paper again, but she was aware of the viscount’s lingering presence, his huff of annoyance, and his tight grip on the door handle.

The man needed a woman to rid him of all that pent-up tension.

But Throsby had never courted anyone while he’d been her guardian, even when she had conspired to throw a lonely widow directly into his path. The man had stuck to her side like glue for the whole of the season so far, too. But that was all about to end tonight.

She wanted to laugh and shout out her impatience for that moment to come.

Instead, she exhaled softly. “Did you want something else from me, my lord?” She asked the question innocently enough…but she glanced up at him from beneath her lashes while simultaneously leaning down to check if her garter needed adjustment.

The viscount clenched his jaw and resolutely refused to look at what she was doing to her leg. “I’m to meet the Duke of Mamble today at the club for luncheon.”

“Yes, Gabby told me all about it. And it’s a Tuesday, so you always go out today.”

“There was something I wanted to show him from today’s paper,” he grumbled.