She bristled. “I am referring, sir, to the entire new wardrobe you have had delivered from Mrs. Lister that is sitting upstairs in Lucy’s bedroom.”
“You were present when we ordered Lucy’s new wardrobe,” he pointed out. Why did he like watching her cheeks heat and her eyes glitter with high emotion? Nathaniel did not understand himself.
“Not the clothes for Lucy,” she replied through gritted teeth. “I refer to the other gowns. The ones for…”
She faltered, as though suddenly uncertain that she had understood the correct recipient of the second set of dresses. Nathaniel didn’t enjoy that as much.
“Ah, yes,” he said briskly, sitting tall and taking up his quill once more. His heart was pounding strangely. “The gowns I ordered for you. What of them?”
She began to pace back and forth, as though the force of her feelings would not allow her to remain stationary. “I may not be a grand lady of the Ton, but even I know it is entirely inappropriate for a single gentleman to buy clothes—to buy anything!—for an unmarried woman who is not a relative.”
“Or part of his household,” Nathaniel said, pulling a letter at random from the stack of correspondence and pretending to peruse it.
She stopped pacing and stared at him. “What?”
“I provide the livery for my servants, including the maids and cooks and so on. My household. You are also a part of my household. As such, I purchased a few pieces of clothing to aid you as you conduct your duties as Lucy’s chaperone. There is nothing inappropriate in that.”
“That dress up there is no maid’s uniform,” she said, hands coming up to rest on her hips. The move framed the neat curve of her waist. “And even if it were...I am not your housekeeper or, or a scullery maid, Your Grace.”
That Your Grace again. It was a title he’d lived in anticipation of all his life, yet somehow when she said it, the words grated against his ears like a curse. “I am not implying that you work in my kitchens like some common drudge. But as long as you perform the duties of a companion to my half-sister, you are in fact a part of my household.”
For some reason, this seemed to upset her. The pretty color drained from her cheeks, leaving them white as chalk. “Oh, thank you for clarifying that you do not consider me such a lowly menial as a common drudge in a kitchen. But I will beg you to remember that I do not work for you in any capacity. You do not give me orders, and you do not pay me wages, and you do not buy me dresses!”
By God, she was the most provoking woman alive. The way she was breathing made the lace fichu tucked into the square neckline of her high-waisted dress stretch and strain. It made a man wonder what it would take to dislodge the fichu entirely.
Nathaniel clenched his jaw and determinedly kept his gaze above her pugnacious little chin.
He would hold onto the reins of his temper. He would control himself.
“Why can you not accept the gowns? Is it your husband who would not approve?”
Damn, where did that question come from?
She appeared as taken aback as Nathaniel felt. “No! I mean, I’m sure no husband would approve, but I don’t have a—that is to say, I’m not married.”
A widow, then. Was that…a relief? Surely not. Perhaps relief at finally having the question that had nagged at him answered.
But then there was the rising need to know more about the marriage. Was it a marriage of convenience? Had she loved her late husband?
Did she love him still?
It shouldn’t matter, but it did. These questions would drive him mad if he allowed them to continue. He needed this conversation to be over.
“The gowns are bought and paid for,” he said firmly. “Pick one for tonight and be done with it.”
“I will not—wait, what is happening tonight?”
“A ball, at the Devenshams’. Lucy will attend, and you will accompany her.”
She frowned. “I don’t recall Lucy receiving an invitation.”
Nathaniel gripped the reins of his temper a little more tightly. “We were invited.”
“Oh, yes?” she said sharply. “All of us? So the invitation was addressed to His Grace, the Duke of Ashbourn, Lady Lucy Lively, and Some Unknown Nobody From Wiltshire?”
“Lady Devensham will welcome whomever I choose to bring with me. I choose to bring you, therefore you will attend. That is the deal we made when I agreed to your plan.”
“I don’t recall making any specific deal,” she hedged, crossing her arms over her chest. “Other than that I would be here to help Lucy. Which I have done and will continue to do.”
