Her eyes narrowed nearly to slits. “I’m not an imbecile or a child, my lord. I’m quite aware of the purchase price and I know the value of coin.”
Ewan pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. She had spunk, this young lady. He had to give her that much. She didn’t appear to be afraid of anyone or anything and she certainly knew precisely what she wanted. “Forgive me for asking, my lady, but are you currently in possession of that amount of money?”
More panic flashed through her expressive eyes. “Not at the moment,” she admitted, clutching her reticule. “But I’m entirely capable of procuring that amount. I’ll just need a bit of time.”
Ewan shook his head and took a step toward the door. He’d entertained this nonsense long enough. If Anthony Ballard or his father were willing to pay anything close to the amount she was offering, Ewan would have lost the auction. Double was a ludicrous amount of money. Furthermore, Lady Theodora obviously wasn’t a skilled negotiator if she was starting her bid at double. The last thing Ewan wanted to do was to take advantage of his neighbor Lord Blackstone’s daughter. “I’m afraid not, my lady. Though I do appreciate your eye for horseflesh. The horse is not for sale at any price. Too bad I cannot take you with me the next time I go to the auction house. I honestly wouldn’t want to bid against you.” He opened the door wide and gestured for her to walk through it. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a busy afternoon. I’ll have Humbolt show you out.” Ewan turned to leave, but had only taken one step when her loud voice stopped him.
“Are youmad?”
He stopped and turned back to face her. “My lady?”
“You’d refusetwicethe purchase price?” Her chest was heaving, and her eyes were flashing gray fire at him. She was quite magnificent really. Too bad she was maddening.
Ewan reminded himself to take a long deep breath. He was used to being in heated negotiations in Parliament and he’d learned long ago that the coolest head usually prevailed. Why this young woman made him lose his infamous cool was anyone’s guess.
He lifted both brows and regarded her down the length of his nose. “I am not mad, my lady,” he replied. “Some things are simply not for sale.”
“Fine.” She was nearly shaking with rage, but she managed to say in a relatively calm voice, “May I at leastseethe Arabian, my lord?”
Ewan eyed her for a few seconds before the word slipped from his lips. Simple. Calm. Unheated. “No.”
“No?” Her eyes went round with surprise. Her mouth was tight. More fire flashed in her steely eyes as they narrowed on him. Her nostrils flared again. “May I ask why?”
“You may ask,” Ewan replied, “but I fear you may not like the answer.”
“Try me, my lord.” Her arms were tightly crossed over her chest once more.
“Very well, Lady Theodora. The truth is that I have the distinct impression that you’ve never heard the word ‘no’ before in your life. And I am of the belief that you would do well to hear it for once.” He said every word calmly, without raising his voice, but by the end of his diatribe, he was most certainly trembling with anger.
Lady Theodora bent her head and she stared at the floor silently for what felt like minutes but what was probably no more than a few seconds. For one awful moment, he wondered if he’d gone too far. He was a gentleman after all, and she was a young, unmarried lady, his neighbor. The chit’s rudeness had taken him off guard, but had he beentooungentlemanly? Had he said too much? Was the young woman about to burst into tears in his drawing room? Was she already crying? Lady Lydia had burst into tears once over something he’d said that had been far less direct. It seemed to him that young ladies were often wont to burst into tears over simple matters.
Ewan watched Lady Theodora warily. She lifted her head, drew up her shoulders, pursed her lips, and grabbed up her skirts. Her eyes were quite devoid of any tears as she said, “Very well. If we are going to tell each other what we believe the other needs to hear …” Venom dripped from her voice as she strode past him toward the door and pushed it wide so violently it cracked against the far wall in the corridor. She turned to face him, “You, Viscount Clayton, are the very definition of an ass.”
Then, she turned sharply on her heel. The clip of her boots on the marble floor rang out as she made her way across the foyer and to the front door, which Humbolt had already deftly opened for her.
Ewan watched her go with a half-bemused smile on his lips. How in the devil’s name had it come to this? In Parliament, he was known for his friendliness and diplomacy, but he’d certainly just made a solid enemy in Lady Theodora Ballard. He shook his head. Not that the chit had given him much of a choice. The girl was beautiful and presumably well-bred, but she was a complete shrew if her performance in his drawing room just now was anything to judge her behavior on. Any flicker of guilt he felt for refusing to allow her to see the horse was quickly replaced by anger when he thought of some of the outrageous things she’d said to him. The girl was clearly selfish. She might be good-looking, but beauty meant little when paired with a waspish temper.
First, she’d written him, then she’d come to visit without an invitation. Ewan turned and sauntered back toward the study to resume his discussion with Forrester, but all the while he couldn’t dismiss the feeling that he hadn’t seen the last of Lady Theodora Ballard.
CHAPTER SIX
“That no good, lecherous, old goat!” Thea nearly shouted as the door to her father’s coach shut behind her. One of Viscount Clayton’s footmen had just helped her inside the conveyance from the gravel drive in front of the house.
Maggie, who sat on the opposite seat, let her needlework drop into her lap. She winced. “Oh, no. That must mean it didn’t go well.”
“It did not,” Thea allowed. She was still breathing so heavily through her nostrils she was practically snorting. She distracted herself by arranging her skirts upon the burgundy velvet-tufted seat while the coachman set the vehicle into motion back toward her father’s estate.
“He’s hideous,” Thea added, pulling her reticule from her wrist and tossing it upon the seat next to her. “He’s contemptible. Odious.”
“You mentioned he’s a lecherous old goat,” Maggie said in an entirely even tone. The maid had already gathered up her needlework and was back at it. “Was he quite elderly, then?” she asked casually.
“No, actually,” Thea unhappily allowed. She scrunched up her face and glared out the window. “He was much younger than Father had led me to believe. Couldn’t have been much past thirty years old.”
“Is that so?” Maggie replied, not even glancing up from her needlework. Maggie had been through a score of dramas with Thea and had learned to take them all in stride. Clearly her friend didn’t realize how very seriousthisdrama was. “Was he handsome?”
Thea’s jaw dropped. “Handsome? Why, I just told you how odious he is. Why would you ask if he’s handsome?” she grumbled.
Maggie shrugged. “I assumed you meant he’s odious because he refused to sell you the horse, not because of his countenance.”
