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“I am.”
“Your Grace, may I invite you to the drawing-room?”
“And you are?”
How chillingly arrogant he sounded. Theo dipped into a quick but elegant curtsy. “Lady Theodosia Winfern, Your Grace.”
His gaze sharpened. “Relative to the late Viscount Winfern?”
“I am his widow.”
The duke’s gaze swept over her once again, and she prevented herself from curling her toes.
“I gather you are the mistress here.”
“I am, Your Grace.”
The duke’s expression shuttered. “I see.”
His hardened jaw gave no clue as to his thoughts.
Theo offered him a polite smile. “And exactly what do you see, Your Grace?”
A pregnant pause filled the silence, and the curiosity in his regard deepened. “If you will lead the way, Lady Winfern, this is a conversation best held in privacy.”
She tried not to show any reaction to his words. Theo turned around and walked back toward the private drawing-room that she had commanded as her own. Laughter spilled from the winding staircase, and Theo winced as Lady Humphrey, and Miss Louisa Charlton appeared on the steps. A loud gasp sounded, drawing the duke’s stare and his steps faltered.
“Your Grace!” Countess Humphrey cried, blushing.
She threw Theo a shocked, scandalized look, and she understood why. They both had bare feet, with their gorgeous hair unpinned and rippling down their shoulders. The nature of their déshabillé was suspicious and scandalous, even if they were indoors.
“Lady Humphrey,” he said with indifferent civility, his eyes taking in every detail. “I had not expected to see you here.”
What had he expected? The countess appeared too stunned to form a reply. Theo smiled upon her patrons reassuringly, hating that they seemed so startled and out of sorts. This was supposed to be a haven, a place where they could relax and be themselves without any fear of censure, and she had thoughtlessly allowed someone to intrude.
Duke or not, Theo should have managed the unexpected encounter better. An unwanted sensation lodged inside her chest. “His Grace called unexpectedly to discuss a business matter perhaps. Please, do not mind his presence. He will be leaving shortly, and his discretion is very much assured.”
How she would achieve that she had no idea as yet, but she could not allow His Grace to leave without receiving his word of honor to keep silent. Theo would have to be very delicate in how she extracted that promise. He must give it without understating that he was protecting the location of a clandestine club for ladies of theton.
She sashayed toward the door she’d left ajar, acutely aware of his probing gaze on her back. Theo preceded the duke inside and made her way over to a large wing back chair and sat. The duke’s gaze swept the room, a small frown spilling his brows. Fading sunlight shone through the large sash windows, and a fireplace burned low in the hearth. The drawing-room was spacious, and the folding doors leading to the ballroom were open. Thankfully, it was empty. Earlier, there had been dancing lessons for ladies who believed themselves awkward and possessed of two left feet. Here, they learned to dance at their pace, without any shoes pinching their feet, their hair let down, and with the condemning eyes of thetonabsent.
Theo waved a hand to the sofa closest to her. “If you would like to sit, Your Grace, I invite you to do so. I am quite keen to hear why you’ve unexpectedly paid a call to my home.”
The duke did not appear to hear her. His entire attention was commanded elsewhere, and she bit back a groan to see that he stared at the large wagering board taking up half of the south wall. Her heart jolted. Good heavens, the duke’s name was on the board. Theo hurriedly stood. “Your Grace!” she said sharply.
There was another board to the left which outlined a betting guide for those who might wish to wager on any of the happenings of high society. The board he stared at listed the current wagers, some naughtier than the others. There were several open wagers and a few dares.
Will the Duke of Hartford marry Lady Edith by season’s end?Certainly, harmless to Theo’s way of thinking.
Will Lady Peabody bear her husband a son or daughter?Another harmless wager.
A pot of one hundred pounds is to be had for the lady who dared to steal back a certain packet of love letters from Lord Sallis. A bit wickeder, but still, none of the duke’s business. Nor would she explain a dare was very much different from a wager, and they dared each other often to act with wonderful impetuosity and a bit of wicked recklessness.
Viscount Thurgood famously declared the next lady to drop her handkerchief in front of him will find herself thoroughly kissed. Who here will take on this dare?At least five names had been scandalously written beside that one.
The duke faced Theo, and she was struck by the piercing blue of his eyes and how they fell on her. It was as if he dissected her, assessing each part. “How outrageous and daring you are,” he said with icy incivility, his eyes unflinching on her person.
Theo stepped even closer and just as softly, replied, “You intruded quite unexpectedly, Your Grace. If I had known you would call, I would have removed your name.”
