Page 33 of House of Thorns
“Of course. There’s no need to fret,” Olivia promised and kissed Deborah’s cheek before turning back to the Duke who still stood in the doorway. “I’ll be leaving now.”
Boldly, she strode to the door, seeming as if she’d walk right over the man. At the last moment, he stepped aside and watched her in astonishment, as if she’d sprouted horns as she swept down the stairs.
Nicholas suppressed a chuckle. The woman had spirit. A jolt of excited pleasure rocked through him. This was a woman he simply had to bed.
Suddenly aware of the Duke’s penetrating gaze locked upon him, he turned toward Deborah and bowed his farewell. “Perhaps, I shall have the honor of your company soon, my lady?”
The lass responded with a kind of muffled squeak that provoked a momentary concern for her health, but after assuring himself she still breathed, he turned and faced the Duke.
The man’s gaze had apparently never strayed. Somewhat unsettled, Nicholas cleared his throat. “Your Grace—”
“What business do you have with my granddaughter?” the man interrupted harshly.
Nicholas cast an uneasy brow at Deborah.
“Not that one,” the Duke snapped, impatience threading his voice. He nodded at the stairs. “Olivia.”
Ah, so the Duke’s cantankerousness masked a decided interest in the lass, did it? Nicholas tilted his head. “I—”
“I am aware of your reputation, Lord Blair,” the Duke cut him short. He furrowed his brows and glared for a good ten seconds before grunting, “Have a care.”
Deborah squeaked again, but the Duke scarcely noticed.
“Most certainly, Your Grace,” Nicholas assured. He cleared his throat again, strangely a little ill at ease.
After a moment, the Duke nodded. Once. “You may go.”
With one last dip of his chin vaguely in Deborah’s direction, Nicholas left. He caught up with Olivia as she waited on the townhouse step.
“Allow me to send for my carriage—” he began.
She whirled, her auburn curls bouncing in irritation along with the rest of her. “Oh, I’ve already taken care of that,” she replied, her nostrils flaring and her jaw tight. “Theaudacityof the man.”
There was no doubt of whom she spoke. Few stood up to the Duke of Lennox—he’d ruined more than one man with a single word. Yet, this wee lass hadn’t hesitated to challenge him.
A sizzle of attraction raced down the back of his neck. He let his gaze trail slowly over her curves as his coach-and-four rolled to a stop before them in a jingle of horses’ harnesses.
Olivia barely acknowledged him as he handed her inside the carriage, and as they started to roll, he couldn’t help but notice the manner of her scowl. She sat on the seat opposite him, her brows drawn in an expression very much like her grandfather’s. They were strikingly similar, now that he’d seen them side by side. Obviously, he couldn’t tell her. She’d doubtlessly behead him. He suppressed a smile and lounged back in his seat as she glared out the window at Glasgow’s passing streets, every line in her slender form rigid.
There was much to concern her, of course. Clearly, Deborah had landed herself in a fine fettle, but her surprised reaction to his presence surely had planted a seed of doubt in Olivia’s mind? But then, the female mind was truly a mystery.
In what seemed like mere minutes, his coach stopped before Olivia’s door and again, he was handing her out.
“Miss Mackenzie—” he began as her hand touched his.
“I must help her,” she interrupted with a frown.
Damnation, but couldn’t the lass see just how like her grandfather she truly was? Neither had little compunction over interrupting as it pleased them.
“No doubt, your cousin is in a situation,” Nicholas granted. “And though it is clearly not one of my making, I do wish to assist, as I may.”
Olivia’s frown deepened. “I’ve yet to hear her explanation, my lord. I will arrange a better time and place. Good day.”
With that, she whirled and made for her door. His irritation at being so quickly dismissed faded at the sight of her hips swaying from side to side. By George, those hips could tempt a man. A sudden heat rushed to his loins.
There was only one way forward on this matter if he wanted Olivia in his bed.
He’d have to solve her cousin’s dilemma, first, and for that, he’d need the truth.
If the man who’d fathered her child was marriageable, he’d play the role of negotiator.
If he wasn’t, he’d find one that was…and then? He did chuckle aloud then. Aye, then, he’d make Olivia his.
