Project Duchess. Sabrina Jeffries
Читать онлайн книгу.
despite that and the major’s general crankiness, Wolfe didn’t seem the sort to fight for the dukedom. Nor did he sound like the reckless, half-mad fellow Sheridan had described. Wolfe certainly didn’t seem interested in murdering four men to inherit.
Miss Wolfe spoke from inside the kennel yard, “All right, lads, time for our walk.”
Holy hell. They were coming out. Grey didn’t want her to catch him lurking about like a servant listening at doors.
Feeling like an idiot, he retreated a short way down the hill, then waited until the kennel door opened before he retraced his steps up the hill toward her.
She emerged with three leashed pointers and shut the door behind them. Then she bent to say, in a girlish voice, “Now don’t tell Mr. MacTilly, but we’re going to have a fine run without these leashes, aren’t we?”
Caught off guard by her tone, Grey paused to watch as she continued to speak sweet nothings to the dogs while she unfastened the first leash.
He’d seen her shrewish and he’d seen her subservient, but he hadn’t yet seen her gentle. It twisted something inside his chest, making him uneasy.
When she went on to the next dog, she put her back to him and bent in a way that showcased her lovely bottom. Damn it all to hell. Her simple gown of black wool skimmed it provocatively. Ah, how he would love to put his hands on that luscious, full derriere.
To the last dog, she said, “None of that misbehavior you showed last time, do you hear me, Hercules? You’ll be a good boy for Beatrice, won’t you? I know you will, you darling rascal.”
As Grey’s loins clenched, he had the errant thought, Ah, yes, Miss Wolfe, I will be a very good boy for you. Just try me.
He wondered what she’d be like in bed, with her soft hands and full mouth caressing him. Or perhaps she’d turn fiery as she had the day they’d met, and she’d rise to meet his every thrust, wrapping those long legs about his hips as they—
God help him, what was he thinking?
Fortunately, just then the dogs rushed off down the hill and she turned to see him approaching.
She blushed deeply. “Your Grace.” Nervously she glanced back at the closed door, and lowered her voice. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you,” he said as he reached her. “Sheridan told me you would most likely be at the kennels, and someone directed me to them.”
To you. And your very fetching behind.
Good God, he must get that image of her bottom out of his head. He felt as off-kilter as the hounds, who dashed madly down the hill, then back up, trying to coax her into following.
“Is something wrong?” she asked. One of the hounds came up to nuzzle her hand, and she scratched his head idly. “Does Aunt Lydia need me?”
Her mention of his mother dampened his desire at once. “No. She’s taking today to rest, thank God.”
An instant wariness darkened her features, which her short-brimmed bonnet didn’t shield in the least. “So why are you here?”
“Before I begin advising you and Gwyn on society’s rules, I thought you and I should get to know each other better. It might make things easier.”
“Then why isn’t Lady Gwyn joining us?” she asked, now clearly on her guard.
“Because I already know my sister quite well, Miss Wolfe,” he joked.
She didn’t so much as crack a smile. “I-I meant . . . That is . . .”
“I know what you meant,” he said, taking pity on her. He wished he could make her feel as easy around him as she clearly did around Sheridan. “And besides, Gwyn is keeping Mother company.”
“Oh. Right. Of course.” Refusing to look at him, she smoothed down her rumpled skirts. “I have to walk the dogs. Pointers need lots of exercise or they—”
“—become restless and unmanageable. Yes, I know. Why don’t we walk them together? I promise I don’t bite, Miss Wolfe. No pun intended.”
Her lips twitched as if she fought a smile. “In my experience, sir, any man can bite if provoked.”
“Then don’t provoke me, and I won’t show my teeth.” When she bristled, he flashed her a grin meant to soothe. “You may have noticed I’m not easy to provoke. I’m like your pointers—ready to come to heel at a command.”
She snorted. “I rather doubt that, Your Grace.”
The use of the honorific irritated him. “Call me Grey, if you please, like the others do. Or even Greycourt, if you prefer. You’re not a servant, and I’m not your master.”
“All right. But then you must call me Beatrice like the rest of the family.”
“Not Bea?” he asked.
A sigh escaped her. “Don’t say anything to the others, but I can’t stand ‘Bea.’ It makes me think of old ladies.”
“Thank you for telling me. Though you ought to tell them, too.”
“I can’t. They’ve been so kind to me.”
“Ah. And no one could ever accuse me of that.”
Her cheeks reddened. “I didn’t mean—”
“I’m teasing you,” he said with a laugh. “I told you, I’m not easy to provoke. All appearances to the contrary.”
“If you say so . . . Grey.” But her tone showed she was still wary.
Not waiting for him to lead the way, she headed down the hill with the dogs dancing ahead of her. Grey followed, noting how she seemed to control the hounds with an invisible leash. They never got too far ahead of her nor dashed off into the woods. And when one of them looked as if he might do so, she merely murmured a word, and he came to heel instantly.
“Your pointers are very well trained,” he observed.
“If you can tell that, you must be quite the hunter.”
“Actually, hunting isn’t my favorite pastime, but I do know dogs. I used to have two setters as pets. They were not well trained or even well behaved, for that matter. You’ve never seen a more rambunctious pair of rascals. No one could control them, including me.” He shot her a sideways glance. “Though I daresay you could have.”
“I should hope so. Setters aren’t so hard to train.” She fixed her gaze on the dogs gamboling ahead of them. “You said you ‘used to.’ What happened to your pets?”
After a moment, he said, “I had to leave them behind in Prussia when I came back to England to attend Eton.”
“Oh, how awful.” Sympathy flooded her face. “You must have missed them terribly.”
Not as much as I missed my family. “They were dogs, Miss Wolfe. Not children.”
He’d meant to put her off. Instead, she eyed him closely. “That doesn’t mean you wouldn’t miss them just the same.”
“I didn’t have time to miss them,” he said, then changed the subject. “So, I understand that you and your brother live in the dower house on the estate.”
For some reason, that turned her prickly once more. “We do, yes. At least as long as your mother prefers to live in the hall.”
“Trust me, my mother will always live as close to her children as is possible, so unless Sheridan kicks her out—”
“Or his new wife does,” she said tartly. Then she caught herself. “Forgive me, Your Grace. That was too blunt.”
“Would you please stop that?”
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I meant to say ‘Grey.’”