Say No to the Duke (The Wildes of Lindow Castle #4) - Eloisa James Page 0,58

fire in the parlor,” Aunt Knowe announced. “I recommend stiff brandies all around as the bedchambers promise to be chilly tonight.”

“I have requested another eiderdown,” Grégoire said. “The one I have is entirely insufficient. I demanded that the innkeeper change the sheets as well. I suggest everyone do the same; it can be fatal to sleep in damp sheets.”

It seemed that Aunt Knowe had not instructed the Lindow maids to change Grégoire’s bedding. Betsy was certain that the marquess’s and Jeremy’s bed linens had been switched for those embroidered with the Lindow crest.

After the meal, Grégoire headed to bed to nurse his cold, and the rest of them set out for the room Aunt Knowe had designated as the parlor. Betsy found herself walking beside Jeremy, who prowled down the corridor, brows knitted, not bothering to speak after giving her a burning glance.

Once they were all in the parlor, the duchess demanded a game of piquet, and cast a betrayed frown in Betsy’s direction when she confessed to disliking the game. The marquess banded with Thaddeus, and Lady Knowe claimed the duchess.

Which left Betsy sitting with the Demon King. Jeremy glared into the fireplace as if each flame was an enemy combatant. She had accepted brandy; he was nursing a cup of tea. In fact, he seemed to have left his ever-present whisky bottle back at Lindow.

No member of the Duke of Lindow’s family was allowed to be missish about liquor, so Betsy savored every drop and tried not to feel as if she were seated next to a steaming volcano.

“What is it?” she asked finally, not lowering her voice because Aunt Knowe was in a pitched battle with her childhood friend over a betting fiasco.

“What?” he growled.

Growled.

She didn’t like men who growled. She liked men who kept their temper to themselves.

“Your sulk,” she said, not bothering to curb the irritation in her voice. “Presumably from the aggravation caused by your father’s arrival, but one never knows with two-year-olds; it’s so difficult to coax them into coherence.”

Jeremy stared at her in slack-jawed astonishment.

“Yes?” she asked, when he didn’t reply.

Only to feel disconcerted when he broke into laughter.

She saw from the corner of her eye that all four players glanced up from their cards. Since Thaddeus was watching, Betsy smiled at Jeremy.

Who recoiled.

“Jesus,” he muttered. “What was that in aid of? One moment you’re scolding me like a nanny after a sleepless night, and the next you’re serving up a society grimace?”

Thaddeus turned back to his cards.

“Well, what are you brooding about?” she asked.

“I wasn’t sitting about in a melancholy. My face merely falls into detestable lines. Likely a matter of inheritance.”

“Your father appears perfectly cheerful,” she said, taking another sip of brandy. “Particularly when he told the story of your adoration for that shaggy little pony. He glowed with cheerful pride.”

“What a blow was there given,” Jeremy recited.

“Are you being clever?” she asked. “Thanks to your father, I know about your brilliance at Latin declension. While my education was excellent for a young lady, it didn’t extend to memorizing the classics.”

“A quote from The Tempest,” Jeremy said. “I was being a conceited, if well-educated, fool.” The firelight caught his hair and made it shine like burnished dark bronze.

“Your cousin was pettish at dinner as well,” she said thoughtfully. “It could be that your temper is inherited.”

“My mother had an optimistic frame of mind,” he offered.

“But you’re prone to allowing your temper to get the better of you?”

“I find myself in the grip of strong emotion.” Their eyes met. “I’m considering taking a wife.”

Betsy’s throat closed, and she spluttered, coughing as brandy went down the wrong way.

“If I appear to be glaring into the fire, it’s the effect of deep thought,” he added.

It seemed impossible. He had tolerated her. He regularly made fun of her.

Although they had kissed.

“There’s no need to propose simply because of a kiss,” she hissed, taking advantage of another burst of irritation among the players.

He raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

Betsy felt color crawling up her neck. “Good,” she said, taking another sip of brandy. She wanted to touch him. Put a hand on his arm and see if she could make him shiver. Trail a finger over the back of his hand and see if it made her shiver, deep in her core.

It would. She knew it would.

“I was actually considering the attributes one should look for in a wife,” Jeremy said. “One can hardly avoid the thought, given the deluge of information emanating