“Yes, though you’ll believe nothing I say in any case.”
“They also told me you were aided by a gentleman.”
“A tale I told in an attempt to foil them.”
No, there had been someone. Her eyes told him so.
“You are a terrible liar, Miss Middleton,” Ambrose drawled. “Your eyes are much too expressive. If there was indeed a man who aided you, I will discover his identity and bring him to task.”
Or, more likely, drag him to the altar to marry her. They were now family, after all. God help him.
“You are under the mistaken impression that every man quakes in his boots at the prospect of defying you.”
“Some men are brave,” he agreed.
“Some men, Your Grace, are more formidable than you give them credit for. And some are far more dangerous than even yourself.”
“A man is only as formidable as the friends that stand at his back, Miss Middleton.”
“And how many people stand at yours, Your Grace?”
“Friends come in all forms, Miss Middleton.” He stood. A menu for breakfast awaited his attention. “If you will excuse me, I have preparations to see to.”
“What of my father? You cannot marry me against my will!”
“Your father has given his permission to the union.” It was a blatant lie, but it served his purpose. Oil to the fire.
“That is a lie! He would never do that!”
Ambrose turned on his heel and stalked from the room. He had said all he had come to say. But mostly he had wanted to see for himself whether resentment coiled in his gut at the sight of her.
It hadn’t.
In fact, he looked forward to dropping the ruse and seeing Willow’s smile when he did.
A grin curved his lips.
Willow was daydreaming. Again. It had become quite the habit, one she enjoyed rather immensely. And, at the moment, she was daydreaming about how she was planning to seduce her husband, thoroughly, completely, and (this was the most important part) wicked, wicked, wickedly tonight.
There was only one problem.
She lifted her nightgown, holding it up before her for inspection.
It was, in a word, revolting. Utterly unbecoming. Downright repellant. Nothing one would wear to a seduction, especially when said seduction was the prelude to getting one’s husband in a good mood to talk about all the reasons he ought to drop this score he wished to settle with her sister.
She stared at the nightgown. If she wore it, every inch of her flesh would be covered.Andit was yellow. Ish. Her nose wrinkled. So, no, she hadn’t planned her nightwear to include marriage or seduction, but this particular travesty was shameful. Shameful, albeit comfortable to sleep in.
Well, she couldn’t wear it.
I could always wait for him naked.
The thought started up all sorts of wicked memories.
Willow shivered.
She flung the garment to the side. She would wait naked. Under the covers. In any case, shyness was no longer an option. Not after she had brazenly kissed himthere.
Heavens! She couldn’t think about that and not feel heated.
Perhaps she ought to open a window and allow for some crisp air to breathe into the room and soothe the warmth of her skin.
Ah yes, that did sound lovely.
With that marvelous idea in mind, she quickly did just that, delighted when the soft rays of the moonlight cast the walnut floor in a wildly romantic glow.
Shedding her clothes, Willow settled under the covers to wait.
