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“As I said, for you.”
Chapter 2
Braden watched Tia’s eyes widen. Good. He wanted her off-balance. He didn’t want her to think about what he was doing until he had her in the carriage and on the road back to Middleton Hall.
“And I already told you I wasn’t returning with you.”
There was a slight change in her demeanor that he couldn’t comprehend. He had the strangest sensation that she was up to something. “Mrs. Turner already believes you are my wife. As such, it is within my right to put you over my shoulder and carry you out of this godforsaken place.”
“I wouldn’t try that if I were you, my lord. I am a wise woman and therefore know all the delicate places on a man’s body.” She raised a brow as her gaze slid down his body until reaching the junction of his legs.
Damn his body for reacting to such a practiced act. “Then you should also know that men are inherently stronger than women. So it’s doubtful that you would succeed.”
She bit down on her lower lip, drawing his attention to her full lips. Slowly, she rose off the bed and let her hand drop from its job of keeping her dress closed. Her fiery hair curled down to the middle of her back. Braden waited for the seductress to come closer to him. He had no doubt that she was an accomplished flirt. No woman looked as she did without learning such alluring behavior.
But with each step closer, she buttoned her gown. Her brown eyes narrowed as she stared at him. “I am not returning to Middleton Hall,” she said deliberately. “Now, you can either accept that and leave or I will make your life miserable.”
“You are coming home, Miss Featherstone.” This had gone on long enough. As much as he didn’t wish to embarrass her by dragging her over his shoulder, she’d given him no choice. He reached for her but she must have anticipated his lunge. She slipped around him and ran out the door. “Dammit, Tia, get back here.”
Did that slip of a girl think she could outrun him? He strode out the door to the corridor and stared. Hearing the front door slam, he raced down the stairs after her. Darkness had already fallen making it harder to spot her. That ugly gray dress didn’t help matters. He walked up the street, glancing down each side street as he went. It only made sense that she would have turned as quickly as she could to get out of sight.
He shook his head when he reached the corner and saw her sitting on a step, examining her foot. Foolish girl had run off barefoot. When she noticed his approach, she quickly rose and hobbled down the street. He only had to walk fast to catch her.
He reached out and grabbed her waist, then heaved her over his shoulder. “You should have put on your boots before trying to outrun me.”
“Put me down or I’ll scream!” She punched his lower back.
“Have you not realized where you are living, Miss Featherstone? Do you honestly think anyone is going to help you here?” He cursed as she punched him again, this time harder. “Stop.”
“You have to let me go.”
“Why?” he asked, but truly didn’t care to hear her reason.
“I need to find Jonathon,” she whispered tearfully.
He hailed a hackney and dumped her inside before clamoring into the carriage. “Why?”
She scrambled into a seat and crossed her arms over her chest. “I need to see Jonathon.”
“I believe you said that,” he said impatiently. “But what you haven’t said is why.”
“I cannot speak of such things to you,” she replied, staring out the window.
Braden tried to remain calm, but his patience had worn thin. “I am his brother and know more about him than most. You can confide in me.”
She shook her head. “It is most private, indeed, my lord. I am afraid I cannot confide in you.”
“Miss Featherstone,” he bit out. “Tell me.”
She turned her blazing brown eyes on him. “Have you always been this arrogant? Or was this a consequence of gaining the title?”
He smirked. “My attitude has nothing to do with my title. Now tell me what you need to say to Jonathon.”
Instead, she pressed her lips together and returned her gaze to the dark night.
Braden clenched his fists as anger fired deep within him. He was certain that he knew what she wanted to say to his brother, but he wanted to hear her say it. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest and remained silent. Rather than continuing a fruitless conversation, he would wait until she was in a vulnerable position to get her to talk.
The silence stretched as the carriage rumbled toward his town home. A few times, he caught her slide a glance to him, but instead of acknowledging her, he remained quiet. It was far better to let her wonder what he was thinking. Keeping a woman off-guard was a time-honored secret of his.
