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“I did not say that.”
“You thought it,” she accused.
“No, I did not.” His tone was measured.
“Liar!”
“Evie!” a flustered Lady Margaret chastised. “Lincoln. I really must protest—”
“Please do as I have asked, Lady Margaret.” The softness of Hunter’s tone was in no way reflective of the fury rising inside him.
A fury which was blinding him to everything else but the need to once again put his hands upon Evie’s delectable arse.
CHAPTERSEVEN
“Stay away from me.” Evie started to back away after Lady Margaret had seconds ago reluctantly vacated the bedchamber, Hunter St. John now stalked stealthily toward her, a look of intent in those hard green eyes. “Your time would be better spent in helping those poor wretches who felt they had no other recourse than to kidnap me and demand a ransom from you if they and their families were to survive another winter.”
The duke didn’t so much as make a misstep in his predatory progress across the room. Nor did he reply to Evie’s challenge until he came to a halt, hands placed either side of her head as he loomed over her where she now stood with her back pressed against the wall. “Those ‘wretches’ are currently sitting round the table in the kitchen enjoying themselves by emptying Mrs. Salter’s larder of all that is edible. My dinner included, probably,” he added dryly.
So much for the hearty stews Evie had been cooking for them for the past few weeks!
“Besides,” Lincoln continued in a hard voice, “I believe that earlier today, I asked you to help me think of a solution to this situation.”
Evie’s defiant gaze met his. She did so in the hope he would concentrate on that and not notice how flushed her cheeks were, or that her hands and knees were trembling. All in response to how close he was standing to her.
So close, she was totally aware of the warmth given off by his body.
Of the heat in his fierce green gaze.
And the fact she was completely naked beneath the towel wrapped about her torso.
She lifted her chin. “I believe you have claimed that this estate belongs to you, as does this house, and all the rooms within it. A claim which must surely then mean you are also responsible for finding a solution to any situations which might occur within this house or the borders of that estate?”
An appreciative smile began to curve those chiseled lips. “What you are saying is that you have no answer to this dilemma either.”
“I did not say that.” Her cheeks warmed. “It seems only fair that you reinstate the homes and employment of the men who fought alongside you in battle.”
“And what is to become of the men and their families who currently reside in those cottages and work in the fields?”
“Find them other homes and employment, possibly on one of your other numerous estates.”
* * *
It was, Hunter realized after a few seconds’ thought, an idea worth consideration. Not all the men and their families currently working on the estate would wish to be transplanted to another part of the country, of course. But there might perhaps be enough that would so all could be accommodated and given employment somewhere. Including the men currently devouring the entire contents of the larder in his kitchen!
“But, of course, that would be far too simple a solution to the dilemma,” his ward scorned. “It also has the added misfortune of having been suggested by me. Men can be so blinkered in their manner of thinking,” she added disgustedly.
He narrowed his gaze on the woman looking up at him so defiantly. “And what would you know of a man’s thoughts?”
“Perhaps not all men,” she allowed ruefully. “But I believe I can discern yours all too easily.”
“Oh?” Hunter said softly. “Then perhaps you would care to tell me what I am thinking at this moment?”
She eyed him consideringly for several long seconds before answering pertly, “You are thinking you have been right all these years in believing that, as the daughter of your father’s mistress, I am not your responsibility. That the sooner you can leave Yorkshire and return to London where you might forget about me again, the better you will like it.”
“Not even close,” Hunter murmured, his senses once again assaulted by the heady mix of spices and sensual woman that was Evelyn Gardener. As for forgetting her, Hunter knew that would never happen now that he had seen her as a woman grown.
Evie’s throat moved as she swallowed. “Then what were your thoughts?”
