The corner of her mouth lifted into a teasing smile. “For the ladies of the ton not to wed you? I think we may have finally agreed upon something at last.”
Anger churned in his core once again as he glared at her. “I meant the demise of this blasted club!”
Lady Kendrick let out a sharp gasp. “Well,” she declared, gathering her skirts with queenly indignation, “I refuse to argue with a man who mistakes discipline for tyranny.”
She swept toward the exit, spine straight, voice loud enough to ensure the entire room heard. “Enjoy your gloom, Your Grace. I will not.”
She marched out, the doors slamming shut behind her.
And suddenly, the ballroom felt much too quiet.
Cassian exhaled slowly with his eyes closed before turning.
Which left only him and the one woman he least wished to be alone with.
Lady Isabella.
He looked at her, fury simmering beneath the surface—yet her gaze did not waver.
“You should not have spoken to her like that,” Isabella said calmly, her voice steady though her eyes betrayed her emotion.
Is she scared of me?
He sized her up for a moment, feeling his pulse quicken when his gaze swept over her bust and hourglass figure. He quickly lifted his eyes to her once again, pushing back the inappropriate thoughts that took hold of his mind.
No. She is not scared of me. She is far too calm for that.
He was almost impressed by her bravery as she stood her ground and glared at him.
“She meant no harm, and you hurt her feelings,” She added definitely.
He laughed once, sharply, the sound echoing across the empty hall. “I am not some tyrant seeking her downfall.”
“You forget yourself, Your Grace,” she said coldly. “Lady Kendrick was merely trying to bring joy to the ladies.”
“Joy?” He scoffed. “What I returned to was chaos. Nothing like it has ever been seen within the walls of this house. What will the parents of these young women say if they knew of the debauchery their daughters were exposed to?”
“What you saw,” she countered, “was something you do not understand.” Her eyes flashed fiercely with anger.
Cassian took a step closer. “What I understand is that I returned to my home to find half-clothed strangers parading around my ballroom filled with mostly unmarried women. Had something gone wrong, who would take responsibility? Do you understand me?”
She nodded, averting her gaze for no more than a second.
“I understand,” she shot back, “that you have no right to treat your grandmother with such contempt. Whether you agree with what happened here or not, you should have never spoken to her in such a manner.”
“Contempt?” His temper flared. “She acts on impulse. And lately, she seems far too eager to do your bidding.” His words slipped before he could stop them. “How am I to know you didn’t put her up to this?”
Her eyes widened as she raised a hand to her chest. “Me?”
“Yes, you, Lady Isabella,” he said darkly. “Every time I turn around, you’re the source of some new madness.” He gestured with his hands in front of him, encompassing all of the unspoken thoughts that had been driving him mad for days.
She had become the bane of his existence from the moment he had laid eyes upon her. She had haunted his dreams andthoughts without permission, and yet she had the gall to stand in front of him and defy him.
Isabella stepped toward him, an act so bold and infuriating that he forgot to breathe. “Would you prefer it,” she demanded, “if I truly were the sort of lady you accuse me of being? Wild? Improper? Wanton?” She angled her chin to the side, defying him with every breath that made her chest rise and fall into a steady rhythm.
Her lips were close enough for him to devour her, but he focused on his breathing instead and took a deep breath.
“Yes—” The word tore free instinctively. “No,” he bit out immediately after, harsher, truer.
