Right.
Christ.
He was helping her look for a husband. What the devil had besieged him to do that? He must have lost his damn mind. But then, he could see no other alternative. Hopefully, it wouldn’t have to come to the point where she had to marry to escape this disaster named Baston. No, he would never allow it to come to that.
Even if that meant he . . .
No.
Not that either.
If they were fortunate, Lady Rosilee wouldn’t have to wed at all. And course, at this very moment, his men should be searching for her brother. He could even purchase them a new estate if they couldn’t find the papers the pup had signed, if they had truly lost their home. Baston was a crafty bastard. He would not have risked such a scheme without the necessary records.
And Baston would be a fool not to keep any papers he might have on him.
Perhaps Blake should just live up to the monster his father claimed him to be and get rid of the man himself.
No, damn it.
He couldn’t do that.
He glanced at the woman who slowly appeared out from under the table. He couldn’t do that because of her. And then, it struck him again—this time much harder.
Almost a blow to his gut.
He had never recoiled from her closeness.
I truly don’t mind her touch.
Chapter Five
Rosilee stood inthe doorway, her gaze sweeping over the mismatched group in the cramped chamber: The duke, Mr. Bishop, and Ben, as well as herself. There were two beds in the room. A big one and a small one. The large bed seemed to have sagged under the weight of its previous occupants and hadn’t been able to bounce back. In the middle, a fat gray cat sat staring at them.
The tiny bed, which had been pushed against the wall in the far corner—and had also been designated as hers—stood slightly askew, its lumpy mattress making a poor attempt at looking comfortable.
“Remind me why we must allsqueezeinto such a small space?” Rosilee asked, trying to fathom how they had ended up in this predicament. The duke’s presence was particularly mighty. And rather unsettling.
“Your rooms are next to Baston’s,” Mr. Bishop provided smoothly. “Unfortunately, this will have to do.”
Ah, yes. That rat Baston hadn’t left them much of a choice. Better crowded together with allies than isolated and vulnerable with him on the other side of the wall. She wouldn’t have gottena wink of sleep. Then again, sleep would be a stranger tonight no matter what.
“This is a disaster,” the duke muttered, annoyance clinging to his brows, his gaze shooting to the bed while his hand covered his nose.
She bit back a smile, unable to imagine this perfect specimen of the male species having a more imperfect inn experience. The cat gave a faint yowl, drawing Rosilee’s gaze again. It looked cantankerous, as though any attempt to pat the animal would result in a clawed swipe. Like a certain someone she knew... Come to think of it, the cat didn’t look all that different from the duke. They seemed like a match made in heaven, in fact. Its green eyes focused on the duke, who glared back at it, his whole body clearly uncomfortable.
“That cat,” the duke spoke with the air of someone trying very hard not to lose his composure, “is going to be the death of me.”
Mr. Bishop chuckled. “Are you truly undone by a mere feline?”
The duke shot him a dark look. “I am sensitive to cats. If that creature comes any closer, I’ll be sneezing until dawn.”
Sensing an opportunity to cause trouble, the cat leaped from the bed and sauntered over to the duke, tail flicking, before rubbing its head against his leg, purring loudly. The poor man’s eyes began to water almost instantly, and he yanked a handkerchief from his pocket, clamping it over his nose. “Get it away from me,” he growled.
Rosilee stifled a laugh. “You can hardly blame the poor thing for wanting some attention, Your Grace. Perhaps you ought to be flattered.”
The duke’s blazing eyes turned to her, though it lacked any real heat. “Yes, I’m quite flattered to be besieged by an infliction in the middle of nowhere.”
Ben darted forward, scooped up the cat, and dashed for the door. With a knowing grin, Mr. Bishop swung it open, and the troublesome feline was promptly exiled to the hallway.