A lesson from his father when he was a child rang in his ears. He’d run up the staircase as his father bellowed at him from the bottom of the stairs,“A duke does not run anywhere!”
Stephen still ran, ignoring the lesson. He had seen the late Marquess and Marchioness of Padleigh run many times. He had even seen the late Marquess running up the stairs when he played with Dorothy, the pair of them eager to put up Christmas decorations on Yuletide.
Striding down the corridor, Stephen found Dorothy not far from her bedchamber door. She had evidently heard his fast steps, as she turned to look at him, her eyes widening in surprise.
“Twice in one day, you have run after me?” she observed with a humored smile. “This is out of character.”
“Why him?” Stephen asked, coming to a stop in front of her.
“I beg your pardon?” Her smile slipped from her face.
“Why Viscount Chilmond?” Stephen asked with his hands on his hips.
“We had a wager, Stephen, remember?” She turned her focus to the door of her bedchamber and turned the handle.
Stephen considered for a minute following her inside to continue their conversation, but then he realized what he was thinking.
How improper! How outrageous! How was it possible that he had been contemplating dropping all of his rules just to continue talking to Dorothy?
I am going mad.
He ran a hand across the back of his neck, scratching it firmly.
“You’re stressed.” Dorothy froze, the door ajar.
“What?”
“You only do that when you’re stressed.” She pointed at what he was doing, and he lowered his hand.
“Why him?” Stephen asked once more, needing to hear…something,though he wasn’t really sure what words he wished to hear.
“Why not him?” She shrugged. “We had a wager, and Lord Chilmond is both attentive and kind. According to you, that is more than enough for a marriage to be arranged, is it not?”
“Dorothy, this is serious,” Stephen muttered, stepping toward her. She turned and leaned against the doorframe. “I do not like him.”
“What? Why not? You two have scarcely exchanged three words.”
“I do not think him trustworthy.”
“Why? Why on earth would you form such an opinion of him?”
Stephen breathed heavily. He had nothing to say, not really. He had no evidence that Lord Chilmond wasn’t trustworthy.
“His affection for you is too fast. It is not possible. Implausible. Any affection takes longer to form than that—any friendship, most certainly.”
“You sound as if you are shaking the grounds of our entire wager now,” she pointed out with a raised eyebrow.
“I am here as your escort.” He waved a finger between them. “That means I have to look out for you, Dorothy.”
“Yet, you are not my guardian.” She lifted her chin higher. “You are not Allan.”
“I never said I was!” The mere thought he was trying to take Allan’s place made him even angrier than before. “Yet, I have to warn you. Be wary of that man.”
“Oh, this is low, even for you.” She shook her head. “Trying to win our wager by pulling this card and making me back off?”
“That’s not what I am trying to do.”
“Of course not,” she said with thick sarcasm, holding up her hands. “Goodnight, Stephen.”
