A Taste of Desire(113)
“Well, I would imagine if such a thing were to become public …”
Thomas had never heard a voice so softly cunning or so ruthlessly self-serving. “Did you come here to make threats, Your Grace, or will that be the happy result of your call?”
“My dear Thomas, I can’t think why you would think that of me,” she said, sounding suitably aghast. “I was speaking of other people who might already have this information. You know how the ton loves a scandal.”
Thomas drained the rest of his rum before pushing to his feet. “Your Grace, if this is the reason for your call, you’ve made it in vain. Now I’m going to bid you farewell and pray I will never see you at my residence again.”
Louisa bolted to her feet in a violent clash of velvet and brocade, staring up at him through narrowed eyes. “Do you understand she’ll be ruined?”
“The ton will have enough to gossip about when our engagement is announced.”
Louisa blanched, splaying her hand against the base of her neck. “Good God, you actually intend to marry the girl?”
“Not only do I intend to wed her, but I will challenge anyone who dares question her innocence. I can assure you with 100 percent certainty that no man has laid a hand on her.”
A savage glint of understanding lit her eyes. “If you think I’m going to believe—”
“I truly don’t give a whit what you believe. Now I believe your ten minutes elapsed one minute ago.” He turned and motioned for her to take her leave just as the library door opened.
“Thomas, I—” Amelia halted at the sight of the woman standing at Thomas’s side. “Excuse me, I wasn’t aware you had company.” Certainly not such beautiful female company, she thought with a pang of jealousy as she turned to leave.
“No, Amelia, please stay. Her Grace was just leaving.” There was a hardness in his tone that made the latter a command not a statement of fact.
Her Grace? This time, Amelia gave the woman a more probing look. She vaguely recalled mention that the Duchess of Bedford had returned from France. All reports claimed she was blond, young, and beautiful. That would be an apt description of the woman standing before her.
“Truly, Thomas, you have all the manners of a dock worker. Are you not going to introduce us?” The duchess chided him with a smile but surveyed Amelia with a coldness in her eyes that conveyed anything but congeniality toward her.
Amelia stiffened. Women had subjected her to those kinds of looks before. However, this time was different. Thomas was hers. Duchess or not, this woman hadn’t a right to regard her as one would assess an unwanted rival for a gentleman’s affections.
“Yes, Thomas, I believe an introduction is in order,” Amelia replied, walking toward them. She stopped at his side and curled her hand intimately around his forearm. Mine. The gesture couldn’t be mistaken for anything but proprietorial.
“Lady Amelia, the Duchess of Bedford. Your Grace, Lady Amelia Bertram.” Thomas’s voice was filled with restrained laughter. She was glad he found this so amusing.
The duchess inclined her head but just barely. Without removing her hand from Thomas’s, Amelia curtsied, also just barely.
“If you’ll excuse me, love, I was just seeing Her Grace out.” Taking Amelia’s hand in his, he brought it up to his mouth and kissed the inside of her wrist. “I’ll be but a moment.”
The duchess inhaled an outraged breath. Amelia barely heard her, for the feel of his lips on her skin started her senses rioting.
Thomas then hustled the blond woman out of the room, his every move sharp and impatient as if he had much better things to do. The duchess bore the indignity with the regality of a queen in the process of losing her crown: in stalwart silence while she undoubtedly plotted her revenge.
“What was that all about?” Amelia asked the moment Thomas reappeared in the library several minutes later.
After firmly closing the door, he sauntered toward her wearing a wicked grin on his face. “I could ask the same. I got the distinct impression you just stamped me your private property.”
Amelia didn’t refute his claim as that had been her intention. “I want to know why the Duchess of Bedford looked as if she would like nothing better than to see me an ocean away on some frozen tundra or in a tropical rain forest.”
Upon reaching her, Thomas slowly enveloped her in the warmth of his embrace. “I don’t want to waste another moment on the subject of the duchess. Suffice it enough to say she is someone of no relevance to you or me. Hopefully, we have seen the last of her,” he murmured as he nuzzled the ultra-sensitive spot behind her ear.