* * *
“Where is she?” Stephen hissed under his breath as he left the dining room.
He left the other gentlemen with their coffee and smoking pipes, and if he knew Dorothy as well as he thought he did, there was no way she was going to sit in a room full of ladies drinking tea for very long.
I know her. She will wander.
He marched down the corridors of the manor angrily, searching for her. At last, he found a shape moving in the library, her figure lit by the single candle that accompanied her.
She seemed distracted, staring quite longingly at a book. Her hair was falling even more out of its updo than usual, and he suspected it was because she had been pulling at it again, in the way that she always did.
He stepped into the library. When she didn’t notice his presence, he shut the door loudly. She started, not only dropping the book but managing to throw it into the air, too. It clattered to the ground as she turned to face him.
Any impropriety there might have been about being alone with Dorothy in a room without a chaperone was removed by the fact that he was her escort and chaperone for this trip instead of her brother. Still, Stephen had a feeling that now that he was here, this was perhaps not the wisest decision he had ever made.
Dorothy’s eyes were particularly wide, her hair tauntingly wild as she stared at him. Determined to keep as much distance between them as possible—as something was curling in his gut as he looked at her, for a reason he could not fathom—he folded his arms and leaned against the door.
“Oh, enough with the silence.” She waved a hand in the air, bent down, and picked up the book. “If you have come to start another argument with me, then please, begin. You know we both relish the opportunity to spar.” She held the book out as if it were a weapon.
“You are unlike any other woman I know.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. Her brows lifted as if she wasn’t sure if it was an insult or not.
No other woman would brandish a book at me as if it was a rapier.
Stephen rather wished to walk toward her and snatch the book out of her hands, to see if she would blush as he approached, but he kept himself flat against the door.
“You sabotaged me.”
“What?” She offered an innocent smile. “Me? When?”
“Just now, at dinner. We have our wager. How can we be expected to play fair if you intercept and distract the first lady I flirt with?”
“All’s fair in love and war, Stephen. Isn’t that how the saying goes? Welcome to war.” Dorothy bowed rather dramatically as if she was on stage.
Stephen couldn’t stop himself this time. He pushed off the door and marched toward her. She straightened up, holding the book between them, like some sort of shield.
“War, eh?” he repeated. “Then you have your war.” He took the book from her, unsurprised when he saw it was yet another book on botany and plants. It was her hobby, one that had been encouraged by both her parents. “You have read this book before.”
“I know. I didn’t know what else to read.”
Without thinking, Stephen turned to the shelves. He found a better book for her, one that would widen her knowledge, one that he had read in the past. He retrieved it and handed it to her.
“What’s this?”
“You’ll like it.”
“And you know what I like?”
Stephen chose not to answer that. Over the last ten years, they had gotten to know one another very well, even if she happened to hate him.
“Now, back to the discussion of war.” He stood tall above her, noting that she no longer held the new book between them like a shield. “You want our wager to be a muddy one? One full of sabotage? Then you have your wish. I will play as you play.”
He walked away, moving calmly back to the door.
“What does that mean?” she called to him.
He hesitated at the door just for a second, then stepped out. “You know what it means, Dorotheo. The rules have changed in our wager. It’s no longer a fair fight, so brace yourself.”
CHAPTERFOUR
