“Hmm, I think you did.”
“I’m going to breakfast,” she announced, nettled beyond measure by his charm and his handsome face and his smug grin and his failure to react as she wanted him to.
Why was he so cursedentertainedby all this? Why did she still want to kiss him? Why couldn’t her broken heart simplyaccept that he was a callous rake who would never, ever return her feelings?
But as she made her way past him, he caught her elbow, staying her. “Not yet, I don’t think. At least, not whilst carrying yesterday’s drawers behind your back. Thisisa house party for the depraved, but even I must caution you against bringing your soiled undergarments to the dining room.”
Drat the man. She was still holding her drawers behind her back. She’d been in such high dudgeon that she hadn’t realized it.
She surreptitiously tossed the garment beneath the bed. She would retrieve it later when she didn’t have an audience.
“You’re still not going to breakfast quite yet, even if you have just thrown your dirty knickers under your bed,” he cautioned, sounding like a governess who had just caught her charge doing something for which a punishment would be forthcoming.
Except that he was talking about herdrawers. Whilst standing in her bedroom. And the Duke of Richford didn’t resemble the grim-looking Miss Sharp, who had served as her own governess. Not in any way.
“Do stop talking about my undergarments, if you please,” she snapped, annoyed with herself for the heat that prickled her cheeks.
Good heavens, he hadseenthem.
He hadspokenabout them.
And now she had as well.
Was that worse than his tongue having been in her mouth? Rhiannon wasn’t sure.
“As you wish, my dear,” he said, as politely as if they had been facing each other in a ballroom instead of her private chamber.
Where she slept and dressed and bathed.
How mortifying.
If anyone were to find him here…
“If you’re done enjoying your levity at my expense, then I will fetch my mask and excuse myself to the dining room. I find that I’m famished.”
“You don’t think I’m allowing you to go about this house party unescorted, do you?”
“Yes, I do. Because I haven’t gone to great lengths to secret myself within these walls so that you could hover over me like a mother hen watching her chicks. Did you forget that only last night, you agreed to let me carry on as I wish?”
He shook his head slowly, cocking his head as he considered her. “Oh no, sweet girl. In this instance, I am afraid that I am rather the fox who has stolen into the proverbial henhouse, all the better to feast upon the chicks. And I only agreed because I had every intention of locking you in your room for the night.”
Heat slid down her spine.
She straightened, ignoring it. “I am no chick, so you shall have to have your feast elsewhere.”
His smug smile returned. “You needn’t fear on that account. I’m already quite sated at the moment.”
Was he speaking about the kisses they had shared? Or had he returned to naughty charades? Had he taken one of the ladies in attendance to his bed?
Rhiannon told herself she didn’t care if he had. It mattered not one whit to her. He had made it more than apparent that her unfortunate feelings for him were not returned.
“Good, then there is also no need for you to accompany me to breakfast,” she retorted, moving to skirt around him for the second time.
“On the contrary. There is every need.” He offered her his arm. “You have two choices. Accept my escort, or I’ll lock you in this room again and have a servant bring you a tray to break your fast.”
She eyed his elbow as if it were a snake poised to strike. “I daresay you’ll have a far more difficult time locking me in this room when I’m aware you are doing it. I’ll fight you every step of the way.”
“Don’t be tedious, minx. I would so hate to have to tell your brother about your propensity for kissing gentlemen.”
