“A bloody brilliant idea. Why haven’t I thought of that? I’ll simply put the attack rooster in a pot. Because after I finished murdering Sir Kensington–a dubious prospect at best, the damned creature is nigh on indestructible–my wife would murderme,” said Perth before Adam could respond. “As I value my life, Sir Kensington and I have come to a resolution of sorts.”
“You’ve struck a resolution with arooster,” Adam said dubiously.
“Indeed. Binding in all courts here and abroad. The mean bastard won’t peck me in the bollocks, and I won’t go after him with an axe.” The duke’s smile widened. “Unfortunately, the resolution does not extend to guests, and thus I would advise you to go forth with caution. Sir Kensington greatly disapproves of anyone who might…take advantage of the Rosewood family. He is very protective of them, as I am sure you can understand.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’ve no intention of taking advantage of anyone, least of all my host and hostess.”
“I was not referring to myself or my wife.”
“No, I did not think that you were.”
The two men stared at each other as the air grew heavy with tension. Perth broke it first.
“Rumor has it you’re seeking a wife. I want you to stay away from Eloise.”
Adam snorted. “What makes you think I have any interest in Eloise?”
“I am aware that the two of you had a run-in at Hyde Park, and I saw you exchange words at the ball. But Eloise is undermyprotection, and I won’t have you sniffing after her. She is off limits, St. Clair. For the duration of your stay here, and however much longer you darken England’s door with your presence, you’re to leave her alone.” Perth’s eyes narrowed. “Do we have an understanding?”
“Amisunderstanding, perhaps. While it’s true that I am contemplating taking a bride, I’d rather marry Sir Kensington than your sister-in-law. That being said, I do not take orders from anyone.” His mouth curled in a shark’s smile. “That includes a duke. You may be able to use your title and stature to intimidate other men,Your Grace. But I wouldn’t count myself as one of them.”
Perth rubbed his chin. “You remind me of me.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
“I don’t like you.”
“Rest assured the feeling is mutual.”
“Refreshments are being served on the rear terrace, and dinner will begin promptly at six o’clock.” The duke leaned in close.Tooclose. “If I catch you in a compromising position with Eloise, my wife’s pet rooster will be the least of your concerns. Do I make myself clear?”
“Is that a threat?” Adam said coolly.
“That’s a bloody promise.”
While the two men glared at each other, a carriage chose that precise moment to roll up the drive, its wheels spraying a light layer of gravel as a prancing pair of black horses delivered another set of guests. Perth rocked back on his heels, an affable grin instantly replacing his menacing grimace when the door opened to reveal an elderly couple.
“Lord and Lady Goldsmith!” he called, waving his arm. “We’ve been expecting you. Right this way, I’ll escort you inside.”
“What am I meant to do about the rooster?” Adam gritted.
“Him?” Perth glanced down. “He’s your problem now, old chap. Best of luck.”
“Fucking Englishmen,” Adam cursed under his breath before scowling at the rooster. “What areyoulooking at, you old bag of feathers?”
With a loud, insulted squawk, Sir Kensington strutted away.
“Fucking Americans.”Perth poured himself a liberal glass of scotch before he stalked across the library to glare broodingly out the window where Adam St. Clair’s valet was unloading his belongings and carrying them into the house. “I don’t know what possessed you to invite him here, Lenora.”
“I did it for you.” Sitting in the middle of a chaise lounge, looking pretty as a painting in a violet morning dress that complimented her sleek ebony hair, Lenora wisely refrained from laughing. “You’ve mentioned that you would like to extend your business holdings across the pond, and it’s no secret that Mr. St. Clair is a wildly successful entrepreneur. I thought the two of you might collaborate on an acquisition together.”
“Wildlysuccessful,” her husband scoffed. “The only thing St. Clair is wildly successful at is being a pain in my arse. I’d sooner work on a deal with Sir Kensington. Who, by the by, doesn’t like your American any more than I do. I always knew that rooster had excellent taste.”
“First, he is not my American. Mr. St. Clair is a guest here, along with three dozen other guests, and I should like you to treat him accordingly.” Rising from her seat, Lenora joined her husband at the windowsill and neatly plucked the scotch from his grasp. “Second, it’s not yet noon. Third–”
“It never ends well for me when you get past two.”
“Third,” she repeated, her lips twitching, “in case your memory has deserted you, it wasn’t too long ago that you and Sir Kensington were mortal enemies.”
