Cuthbert did cuff her then, sending her reeling backwards and showing Wells a pair of well-formed legs beneath her skirts, making his thoughts abruptly shift.
“John, a bath; I can stand the stench no more. And whatever’s left of dinner, bring that as well.”
The girl had gotten up, wiping blood from her freshly split lip as Cuthbert slipped from the room. Wells sank his bulk back into his chair.
“I’d hoped for a quiet evening this night but you’ve gone and ruined that.” He frowned, taking her in more closely. “Step here, into the light, that I might see you better.”
She did as bid but hated him for it, he could tell—yet another proud Cumberland native, as fierce and unyielding as the landscape itself.
“Let down your hair,” he ordered.
“I beg your pardon!” she burst out.
“And take off your cloak. I wish to look at you.”
Her eyes seethed—if eyes could seethe. Wells found the idea amusing. “Or would you ratherI remove it?” He smirked.
“I’d like to see you try,” she growled back.
He gave her a slow, salacious grin. “Very well.” He rose, moving towards her even as she backed away, looking cornered. “Not so fierce now, are we?” Wells laughed, to which she spat at his feet.
In an instant he’d grabbed her, ripping off her cloak and tearing her bodice in two before he yanked her hair loose and quickly stepped back to appraise.
She looked shocked by the speed of his actions, her breaths ragged and pupils dilated, but the effect was not lost on Wells, who saw in her potential, and decided in that moment she’d do.
“Not bad.” He surveyed her more critically. Her proportions were pleasing, even if she was too thin. “How old are you, girl?”
She glared at him, tight-lipped.
“I said?—”
“I heard what you said,” she snarled, coming back to life. “And as I am not in a court of law I don’t have to answer you that.”
His lips twitched. “Ah, but it appears Iamthe law here and therefore you will do exactly as I say unless you wish to make things even worse for yourself.” His eyes stole over her once more, making her visibly shiver. “I believe there is a steep fine for stealing, if not time in the gaol. Or is it still tradition here in Cumberland to lop off a thieving limb?”
That drew her ire; her entire face pinched.
“Why yes, sir, we are so backwards here it is a wonder you grace us with your presence at all.” Her tone was barely civil. “Pray, how long do you plan to remain in Cumberland, my lord? More importantly, how long will your chickens here reside?”
He laughed, full-throated and deep, which seemed to surprise her only more, her eyes growing wider still and her ample bosom heaving nicely where he’d just exposed her stays.
“I imagine I and my chickens will be here for some time, miss, making us neighbors. So you will tell me your name and age forthwith,” he sharpened his tone, “and you will address me with less impudence.”
“You are not the Duke of Allendale,” she jabbed.
“Not yet.” He held her gaze. “But I am his heir apparent, so you will afford me the respect I am due.”
She swallowed before she curtsied inordinately low, allowing him an even better glimpse of bosom. “Charles Merrinan,Your Grace, five and twenty.”
Wells winced. The curtsy impressed, but her abuse of title went too far; bad enough he suffered Cuthbert that liberty.
“Charles?” He chose to ignore her insult, for now. “You appear undeniably female to me.”
“My parents wished for a boy.”
Wells was about to respond to this newest revelation when his steward returned with an ample tub plus six additional men carrying steaming buckets of water they proceeded to pour in. A seventh man unloaded a bar of soap and Wellesley’s banyan, then plunked down a tray of hot stew.
Wells was unsurprised by the look of hunger he saw mar the girl’s face. “Leave us,” he ordered but stopped Cuthbert at the door. “I’ll ring when I am done.”
