Page 7 of A Scottish Bride for the Duke
“And some warm milk,” the motherly housekeeper said. “We’ll soon get the color back in your cheeks.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Hodge. My maid,” she said. “Jane. Can ye find her a room or a bed somewhere?”
“Of course we can,” Mrs. Hodge said. “Never you worry. We’ll get her sorted, and when you ring to change for bed, she’ll come to look after you.”
After clucking around for a few more moments, Mrs. Hodge left the room, closing the door behind her.
Isobel crossed to the large bed and slumped across it.
Well, that has been… eventful.
She’d not thought that coming to London would be so fraught with…
Him. The man preventing her from speaking with the one woman who could protect her.
Not to mention how cold and arrogant he was. Infuriating.
And handsome.
She dismissed that thought almost immediately.
This man had denied her the one thing she had wanted—the thing she had traveled across the entirety of England for. She wouldnotfind him attractive, and she wouldnotallow him to stand in the way of her and her freedom.
Adrian stared at the note she had handed him. Sure enough, it did have his mother’s name on it, though no place of residence.
Of course, thiswasher place of residence, but she would not be back for quite some time. He tapped the letter against the desk, briefly considering opening it. To do so would be to go against his principles, but it would certainly clear up this particular issue.
Then again, what right did she have to provoke him into ignoring his principles? This—she—was merely a distraction. A lusciously curvy attraction with the sorts of lips men dreamed about. But that, too, would not do; he would not allow her such a passage into his mind.
At the knock on the door, he looked up. “Enter.”
“Your Grace.” Mrs. Hodge stepped inside and curtsied. “Lady Isobel is secure in her room. I was wondering about your plans for dinner.”
He glanced at the carriage clock on the mantelpiece. Usually, he asked for a tray in his study so he could eat as he worked. But today, he had a guest. And if he wanted to know a little more about her, a dinner would be an ideal setting. Perhaps, if he reined in his temper, she might open up to him a little more. Perhaps he could coax the truth from her.
He was also drearily reminded of his duty. When he had a guest, it was his responsibility to see to her comfort.
“I will take dinner in the dining hall,” he said. “Inform Lady Isobel that she is invited to dinner.”
“She requested a tray in her room.”
He gritted his teeth. “Well, impress upon her how eager I am for the honor of her company.”
Mrs. Hodge curtsied. “Yes, Your Grace.”
“Thank you.”
Adrian turned his attention back to his work, setting Lady Isobel’s letter aside. He even managed to put her from his mind for a period of an hour, until a summons brought him to the dining room.
To his relief, he found Lady Isobel waiting for him in a fresh dress, her hair combed and her curls riotous around her face.
Another bolt of lust passed through him at the lower dip of her neckline and the tantalizing swell of her breasts beneath. If they had met in a more conventional way, perhaps he might even have been interested in her.
“Lady Isobel,” he said, and she raised wary eyes to his face. “I’m glad you decided to join me.”
She licked her lips, and his gaze dropped to them before he forced his eyes away. “I understood ye required me presence.”
“I thought it might be a good opportunity to smooth over the unfortunate way we met.” Adrian gestured for her to take a seat, sitting opposite. “I regret that I lost my temper. How do you find your room?”
