Lord Granville shoved his chair back as if he could no longer bear Harry’s timidity. “Lady Jessica, if you would give me a moment of your time?” He presented his hand.
Inwardly cringing, she placed hers in his keeping. Lord Granville had obviously had enough of Harry’s irritability.
Drawing her to the corridor outside the dining hall, he looked into her eyes and said, “Pardon me, my dear, for my cheek, but as your future husband I might suggest that you be a little cautious with this fellow Mr. Windberry. He is a very fine fellow”—Lord Granville glanced into the dining hall at Mr. Windberry—“in the height of elegance this morning. Yet he seems to suffer an overabundance of familiarity.”
“Yes. Yes, he does presume too much on a day’s acquaintance.” And a night’s. But she kept that thought firmly in her mind and did not allow it to pass her lips.
“Good. We understand each other. You’ll wait for me to escort you around the grounds.”
“As you wish.” She could be submissive when she tried.
“I’ll be down in a few minutes. I haven’t yet had a chance to unpack, and I wish to dress for the afternoon.” Lord Granville’s mouth took a scornful twist. “It takes time to achieve an elegance to match Mr. Windberry’s.”
“Yes.” Modestly she lowered her eyes, yet she couldn’t help but wonder if Mr. Windberry’s newly acquired style was for her. To court her. To make his intentions clear.
Did he indeed have good intentions toward her person? Had last night been more than she dared hope?
“You’re a good girl.” In a proprietary manner, Lord Granville kissed the air above her forehead and started away.
Recalled to decorum, Jessie rushed into speech. “Perhaps, if you didn’t bring your own valet, you could call on Mr. Windberry’s valet instead. Dehaan is an artist.”
Lord Granville halted in midstep. “Dehaan?”
What was wrong? Why did Lord Granville turn on her, nostrils flared, eyes narrowed? “Yes, Mr. Windberry is not always so cosmopolitan.” Oh, dear, that wasn’t the right thing to say, either.
A slow, broad smile stretched Lord Granville’s lips. “I shall certainly think about using Dehaan. Thank you, my dear. I most certainly shall.”
He left her standing in the corridor, staring after him. He was a very odd man.
Returning to the dining room, she found Harry eating his breakfast like a ma
n taking his last meal. Glancing up at her, he said, “Good. You’re back. Come on.”
“Come on?”
Grasping her hand, he towed her, resisting, out the door.
“Where?”
“To your bedchamber.” He towed her out the door and up the stairs. He seemed unafraid they would meet Lord Granville. In fact, he looked forbidding and intent. “I want you to stay there until I come for you.”
“Why?”
Giving her a look that forcibly reminded her how little she knew of him, he said, “Because I tell you to.”
She didn’t care how forbidding he looked. “I do not do what you tell me to.”
If her defiance impressed him, he hid it well. “Where’s your key?”
“You will not—” Whirling her around, he pinned her, face first, against the wall. His hands groped her, but without passion. He did not take liberties with her body; he sought only her key, and that infuriated her even more. “Mr. Windberry, I seem to have given you the wrong impression. I chose you as a lover. I did not give you permission to command me in any way.”
He delved into her pocket and found the key. Palming it, he pushed her irrevocably toward her door, opened it, and forced her inside. Following her in, he shut the door behind them.
“Big, mean, stupid man!” Infuriated by his bullying, she punched his chest hard enough to make him gasp. “Tell me why you’re acting this way.”
“I only have time for one thing, and an explanation isn’t it.” He took her head in his hands. He kissed her.
As kisses went, it wasn’t his best. It was swift and direct. He opened her mouth to his and dominated her with the heat of his body and the thrust of his tongue. He kissed her cheeks, her eyelids, her neck. He acted as if…as if they might never kiss again, and for all that she was furious with him, she responded. How could she not? She loved the man, even if he was an mystery, even if he was arrogant, even if he treated her like a dithering idiot.