He felt her words like the prick of a pin.
Guests did not come and go as they pleased. He made the rules. He was master here.
“I meant what I said. I’m holding you hostage until your father’s killer is in gaol.” No sensible man would let her leave.
Not when she might be the culprit … or the next victim.
Her gaze moved to his spread thighs, then returned to the pretty teapot. “If I want to leave, Mr Hawke, I will. You may like to think you have dominion over me. You don’t.”
He might have been tempted to overrule her, but he wasn’t a tyrant. “A man should have dominion in his own home.”
“Over your possessions. Not over me.”
I could possess you in a heartbeat.
All it would take was one kiss.
Yet taking from her held no appeal.
He’d find a way to make her give it freely.
“I could throw you over my shoulder and carry you to the gate. You’re here only because I allow it.”
She handed him the cup with a smile that might fool someone into thinking she was simple. “I’ve no sugar. Though you strike me as a man who likes everything sour.”
“What is this? An attempt to civilise a brute?”
He pinched the handle of the teacup and drank like a lord accustomed to every refinement.
She raised a brow. “A brute would have sat in the wing chair, not on the stool.”
He couldn’t help but grin. “I adapt to suit my purpose.”
She sipped her tea. “Which is?”
“To decide whether tidying the cottage is a necessity or a distraction.” He watched her. She’d not been crying today. It was partly why he’d accepted her offer. “Do you need my protection? Are you hiding here? Or do you need time to consider your options?”
She stared into her tea as though searching the leaves for a sign.
“You refused to tell Ramsey the name of your suitor.”
“Which suitor would that be?” Her voice was cool, detached. “Both are willing to pay a small fortune to bed me. One out of desperation. The other because you dressed me up like a prize.”
Someone had already approached her?
He gripped the delicate china handle so hard it was likely to snap. “Let me guess. There’s a house in Mayfair, and an allowance that would make Croesus weep. Who made you the offer?”
He wasn’t sure why it mattered. But it did.
She sat, lips pursed, defiant.
“You’re not going to tell me?”
She tilted her head. “You have the means to find out, as I do when it comes to your act of vengeance. So why don’t we save time and be honest?”
She made it sound absurdly simple. “This isn’t a game of riddles, Miss Harland. If you want honesty, start with yourself.”
“Very well.” She set her cup on the side table, no longer needing the shield. “I’m glad you asked me to dance. Not so glad you wrote a letter and handed it to Lord Templeton. He’s currently awaiting my reply to his scandalous offer.”
