Page 23 of Five Ways to Bed a Duke

“It is mine, and no matter how much you try to intimidate me, I am not giving it to you,” she huffed, jutting her chin in defiance.

It seemed the little imp had really matured, since his usual intimidation tactics no longer fazed her. It seemed it was time to change tactics.

“Why are you trying so hard to conceal that letter? You are not doing something illegal, are you?” he asked, softening his voice.

But despite the change in his tone, the look of defiance in her eyes remained. She tried to run past him, but he used his body to block her path.

“Where do you think you are going, young lady? We have not concluded our discussion, and you haven’t told me what’s in that letter,” he said irritatedly.

He was definitely not in the mood for this altercation so early in the morning. Unfortunately, he had the thankless duty of protecting a young lady who was becoming more headstrong by the day.

“The earlier you give me the information I seek, the faster you will be free to return to your chambers,” he added.

It was quite uncharacteristic of Emmy to prolong a disagreement. She was more likely to give up so she could have her peace. The fact that she was steadfast in withholding that letter caused his hackles to rise, and they rose even higher when she used a tactic that had been used by all schoolroom girls.

She threw a tantrum.

Her eyes narrowed, and she stomped her feet.

“I am seventeen, Richie. I am a young lady now, and you are not entitled to read my letters, so drop your overbearing attitude and allow me to go up to my room.”

That annoyed him even more.

“Don’t you ever stomp your feet at me as long as you live under my roof. You remain my ward, and you must follow my rules for as long as you live here. If you refuse, I will forbid you from going to the park again.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she huffed, flushing with outrage.

“Watch me,” he returned, a smirk on his face that was guaranteed to annoy her even more.

However, she still did not give up the letter. There were few things that could make a young lady send a secret letter, the prime example being a secret lover, and if Emmy had one, he had to know.

He was not going to allow his only sister to bring ruin upon herself, and—God forbid—he did not fancy the idea of chasing her down to Gretna Green.

He opened his mouth once again to demand answers but was interrupted by someone clearing their throat rather loudly.

He turned to find Catherine standing a few feet from them, watching them with an amused look on her face. He knew he was supposed to feel embarrassed or annoyed by her expression. Instead, he was transfixed, unable to tear his eyes away from the sheer magnetism she radiated.

Today she wore an emerald-green walking dress with a slightly low bust that exposed the creamy skin of her cleavage, which became even more enticing when she folded her arms over her chest.

She was solely oblivious to the effect that action was having on him. It seemed the lady had the uncanny ability to drive him crazy without any effort.

Her hair was arranged in multiple curls, with several strands hanging around her face to give her that windswept look. On any other woman, her hair would have looked unkempt. And now he was fighting the urge to bury his fingers in her hair and tug on it.

The thought of having her dark hair spread across his immaculate bedsheets heightened his arousal. It seemed that he was definitely going to need to have several cold baths in the future.

“Your Grace,” she called, snapping him out of his reverie

She was advancing towards him with a concerned look on her face. He subconsciously took a step back, and he watched her eyes fill with pain. But that was probably better than the alternative. He was quite certain that if she touched him, hewould have a hard time not ravishing her right there in the hall with no care for who was watching.

It seemed that Catherine had interpreted his reaction as him being disgusted by her, and that was rather evident by the way she squared her shoulders and jutted her chin.

“I am here to resume Emmy’s dancing lessons. Every fashionable lady is expected to at least be an average dancer, don’t you think?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I…” His voice came out hoarse, and he coughed in other to clear it. “I think that is fine,” he replied evenly.

He turned back to see that his sister was looking at him. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, and at that point, he was glad for his long coat, as it hid his arousal from his unwitting audience.

His sister was soon distracted by Catherine’s call for her to proceed to the ballroom for their lessons.

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