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Now he was looking for an answer. “At first I did not know it was you,” she lied. “I thought you were—”
“Don’t patronize me,” he grated, coming closer. “I neither look nor sound anything like Lord Russell.”
With horror, she realized he had been eavesdropping on her conversation with Cat. He’d heard everything. Squaring her shoulders, she wrapped the tatters of her dignity about her like a shield. There was nothing for it but to tell the truth. Well, some of it, anyway. “Fine. Yes. I knew it was you. When you failed to recognize me, I thought it best to allow you to continue in your ignorance. I didn’t want you ruining my evening—as you are now doing.”
His expression did not change, save that his eyes darkened. “So you again deceived me.”
Infuriating man! “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone,” she spat. “You’ve been anything but honest in your dealings with me, Your Grace.”
“I have never pretended to want anything other than your swift removal from both the Hospital and my life.”
“Why? Why do you want me gone so much? Have I not managed your responsibilities well enough for you?” She waited, but he said nothing—what could he say to the unvarnished truth? She knew she ought to get up and walk away, but now that she’d started, she didn’t much feel like stopping. “Your opinion of me is quite clear, Your Grace. And it is based largely, if not all, on erroneous assumptions. You think you know me, but you do not. Not at all.”
“Yes, well, that much became evident tonight,” he said drily. “You put on quite a performance. Rich himself would have been impressed. Had he witnessed it, he probably would have offered you employment on the spot. I would applaud, but I fear the urge has already passed. I confess I didn’t think you had it in you. Though I suppose every woman, even the lowliest kitchen maid, has her moments.”
Fury lent her reckless courage. “Indeed, my lord footman. I think you’ll find that like everyone else I, too, am quite capable of being dangerous when the need arises.”
“So you think me dangerous, do you?”
She froze. Had she implied that? “Are not we all, to some extent?”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “My lady kitchen maid, you have no idea.”
Alarmed by his intimate tone, she shrank away. Was he about to try to kiss her again? The frightening thing was she almost wanted him to do it. Her lips tingled in anticipation.
Instead of attempting to take liberties, however, her enemy lounged back against the cushions and stretched out his long legs. “You know, I find this most intriguing,” he said, his manner amused. “I cannot help but wonder which of you is the real Harriett. The saintly spinster or the sinful temptress? It would surely make me reconsider my opinion of my brother, were the true Harriett Dunhaven proven the latter.” He raked her with his eyes. “I begin to suspect I have indeed been wrong—about you and William. Perhaps my brother wasn’t quite the eunuch I thought him after all.”
Though the horse’s ass beside her couldn’t have known it, the irony of his statement was cruel, considering her recent thoughts on her relationship with William. If William had harbored any passion for her, he’d kept it so well hidden she’d never seen the slightest evidence of it. They’d shared many common goals and had always enjoyed each other’s company, but the physical madness she felt in Roland’s presence had never been a factor in their relationship. The thought stung like spirits poured over a fresh wound.
“You insult both me and your brother’s memory,” she said in the same icy tone that sent errant staff members scurrying for cover.
“Oh, I meant no insult to either you or my dearly departed brother, God rest his soul,” he said with mock sincerity. “No indeed. In truth, I should be glad to know William had some red blood in his veins. He was always far too cool and passive.”
“You mistake grace and forbearance for passivity,” she s
napped. “It doesn’t surprise me that you wouldn’t recognize either of those qualities, much less possess them.”
His smile was wolf-like. “And you mistake my curiosity for patience.”
Unwilling to tolerate another moment of his odious presence, she leaped to her feet. Before she could take so much as a step toward the door, however, he caught her and hauled her back down—across his lap. With a squawk of protest, she tried to free herself.
He wrapped his arms about her middle, preventing her escape. “You’ve put your foot in it now, haven’t you, Harriett?” he purred at her ear.
A shudder wracked her as his warm breath sent goose bumps racing across her flesh. “I beg to differ, Your Grace,” she hissed, resuming her struggles. “It is you who have made the mistake tonight, not I. Let me go!” She kicked out, but her feet found no purchase.
“I’ll release you when you’ve answered my questions to my satisfaction,” he countered, hauling her tighter against his chest and squeezing until she lay quiescent. “Why did you play games with me tonight, Harriett?”
“I did—I did not play games,” she gasped, hardly able to breathe. His arms were like unyielding rock. “I simply did not wish to expose myself to further censure.”
“Liar,” he murmured, his lips brushing the tip of her ear. “And I would cease my squirming about if I were you. You might not like the result.”
She stilled, suddenly noticing the hard bulge beneath her rump. Oh, my Lord, he’s…
“Well, perhaps not at first,” he amended, a smile in his voice as he shattered her thoughts. “Though I’m sure I could change your mind quickly enough.”
Her cheeks caught fire as he shifted beneath her, seating her to one side of his...his...
All the words she’d been gathering to fling at him vanished, as did every drop of moisture in her mouth. She fought with every ounce of her strength to maintain her rigid posture in spite of the sudden desire that flashed throughout her body, filling her with liquid heat, making her want to go limp in his arms.
