Page 24 of A Rogue's Rules for Seduction
“The walls groan with the number of guests I’m accommodating, and every single bedchamber is spoken for. That leaves you but one alternative, old man.”
Dom exhaled. Heknewhe was being manipulated, likely by the Ransome brothers, yet there was no way to fight it. He was strong enough to knock the door to the attic room down, but in truth, another night in that garret, and he might catch some putrid and deadly sickness. Wouldn’tthatbe fucking ridiculous, the strapping, belligerent son of Ned Kilburn meeting his maker not in the midst of a tavern fight, but carried away by disease because he’d insisted on sleeping in a room with holes in the roof, when a snug and luxurious chamber was just steps away?
But that put him next to Willa.
“Go,” Longbridge urged. “There’s a fire in your room, and down blankets on the bed, and everything’s dry.”
There was stubborn, and then there was stupid, and Dom liked to believe he was the former but not the latter.
“Fine.” He added through his teeth, “Thank you.”
“Thankyou,” Longbridge answered as he sat down so his valet could take off his boots. “You’ve kept my reputation as a host well protected.”
“You’re a good man, Oliver.”
Longbridge smiled. “That’s what the world believes, but I’m delighted that, in private, I can prove everyone wrong.”
After a chilly trek across the island, the lure of a fire and down blankets was too enticing to resist, so Dom went down the hall to seek out both comforts. As he approached the open door of his room, he glanced up to see Willa emerging from her bedchamber. Her expression remained carefully neutral as she looked at him.
“There wasn’t any other place to put me,” he explained gruffly.
“It won’t present a difficulty,” she answered, her voice just as impartial as her appearance.
“If you tap on the wall before you leave your room, I’ll stay in mine until you’ve gone, that way you’ve got less chance of seeing me.”
“That won’t be necessary,” she replied. “I’m not going to fly into a frenzied rage just fromlooking at you. I’vewantedto, but a person can evolve.”
“You always had a good throwing arm,” he said, unable to keep himself from smiling. “Be a shame if you didn’t keep up your practice.”
A tiny smile tucked itself in the corner of her lips. “I ought to be a bowler on the local cricket team.”
He shook his head. “Their batsmen won’t stand a chance.”
They stood like that for a moment, cautiously smiling at each other, until Mrs. McDaniel appeared, heading toward her room. The widow didn’t speak to either of them, only gave a polite nod as she entered her chamber, yet her presence was enough to wake them from a momentary daze.
Without another word, Willa swept down the hallway. She didn’t spare him a backward glance as she turned the corner and disappeared.
Dom let out a long, jagged breath.
It’d be a challenge to be so close to her, see her every morning, and hear her moving around at night before she took herself to bed. But he’d no choice in the matter. So, he stepped into his room.
A bright fire leapt cheerfully in its grate, and there was a deep, plush bed, grand and welcoming. He couldn’t stop a rueful chuckle at what he’d been willing to forgo in order to keep his distance from Willa. Clearly, the Ransome brothers had other plans.
A soft tap sounded on the door, and he turnedto see Sam, the footman who’d been serving as his valet, poke his head in. “Sir?”
Dom waved Sam forward, and the footman eased into the room and shut the door behind him. He carried a pitcher of what appeared to be steaming water, a neatly folded towel slung over his shoulder.
“I took the liberty, sir, of bringing these things in to help you get ready before dinner.”
Dom rubbed a hand over his face and found his cheeks prickly with stubble. “I skipped my morning shave, and men in my family can nearly grow a full beard within hours.”
Sam’s eyes widened. “It’s like that on my mother’s side, sir. Not mine, unfortunately.” The footman poked sadly at his own cheeks.
“Cheer up, Sam,” Dom answered. “Better to lack a beard than look like a wild beast after just a few hours.”
“If you say so, sir.” Sam arranged the shaving supplies and pulled out a chair.
“Usually, I shave myself,” Dom said. “After growing up where I did, it’s not easy to trust anyone holding a razor to my throat.”
