Theo sat down hard on the closest chair and shoved his crutches to the floor. There. He got his way and finally scared her off.
It didn’t make him happy at all.
He rubbed his face with his hands. Being a marquess was like being a military officer, he reminded himself. One did as one must, not as one wished.
Chest tight, Theo pulled the book of poetry from its spot next to his heart and tossed it on to the closest shelf. It hadn’t protected him today.
A black cloud slunk out from behind his chair and darted between the stacks of books.
Theo sighed. “You’re a terrible chaperone, Duke.”
At the sound of his name, the cat stalked out from its hiding place to bare its teeth in displeasure.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” Theo said sarcastically.
Duke immediately rolled his paws skyward, twisted to scratch his back on the carpet, and gave a loud purr.
Theo blinked. “What in the—”
Duke stopped purring and stared at him.
Theo narrowed his eyes. “Duke.”
The cat leaped onto its feet, claws out, and hissed.
This time, before it could run away, Theo immediately added, “Thank you, Your Grace.”
Duke’s claws vanished as he threw himself back to the floor, wriggling and purring in obvious pleasure.
Theo let out a surprised snort of laughter. The cat wasn’t the prickly, antisocial creature he had seemed.
He had just been waiting to be treated like he mattered.
Chapter 8
Virginia hesitated before the front step to the Duke of Azureford’s cottage. No matter how hard she tried, she had not stopped thinking about the kiss she and Theodore had shared.
She did not blame him for trying to remind her of the walls between them. They were more insurmountable than he knew.
Even if he’d been willing to throw away his good standing and become the laughingstock of thetonby taking her as his bride or his mistress, Virginia was not. She would not risk her freedom.
Virginia was done being laughed at, looked down upon,less than. But although London was out of the question, she could choose to make the most of what time with Theodore remained.
She adjusted her basket, rolled back her shoulders, and knocked.
Swinton answered the door immediately. If he had watched her dither on the front step, he gave no sign. Instead, he motioned towards the corridor. “Front parlor today.”
Virginia raised her brows. The front parlor was the furthest point from Theodore’s guest quarters… and from the library where they had shared their kiss.
The curtains were drawn when she stepped into the room, giving the large parlor a cozy, sleepy feel. The only movement came from a fire dancing in the grate. The only sounds, the occasional crackling of a log.
And then she heard it.
A grin spread across her face as she rushed in the direction of Duke’s familiar purr.
The little scamp was curled in Theodore’s lap, stretching luxuriously whilst he enjoyed lazy scratches at his favorite spot behind his ear.
Theodore’s wheeled chair was nowhere in sight. The wooden crutches lay on the floor, tucked within arm’s reach of the plush armchair where he sat petting her cat.
