Flabbergasted, Florentia opened and closed her mouth several times, not believing that he had the audacity to say such a thing to her.
Rage filled her, and she stood and leaned over the table.“How dare you speak to me in such a manner!”
“My da always said, never shite where ya sleep.”He took a bite of sausage, chewing slowly.His chiseled jaw was freshly shaven, those decadent lips teasing her.
“Am I supposed to know what that even means?”She sat back down, deciding that ignoring him would be the best course of action.Perhaps she should consider Lady Wyndam’s offer to allow her to stay at Matron Manor, then she wouldn’t have to deal with such impertinence.
“What it means, princess, is that you don’t sleep with the help.”He took another bite of toast.“Is there anyone else you’ve fecked?Anderson perhaps?”He raised a red eyebrow at her, as if that was a possibility.
Having heard enough, she threw her napkin in his face.“You’re disgusting!”She stood and was marching toward the door when he took her by the arm.
His touch burned down to her very bones.She could feel him everywhere.
A knowing smile teased at the corner of his mouth.“Sit down, Florentia.”
Damn him, her name sounded like heaven on his lips.Such a man should not spark a fire in her core, but he did, and she hated him for it.
“I don’t take orders from you.You’re not my husband or my father, and I didn’t take orders from them either.”
“You’re right, Princess, I’m not your father, and I’m damn sure not that old bastard Summerset, nor am I that young footman that is fawning over you like a simpering idiot.”He released her, and suddenly she felt cold.“Now sit down, please.”
She stood momentarily still before she walked back to her seat.“Since you said please.”Florentia sipped her chocolate, allowing the rich smooth taste to calm her nerves.“Who I allow in my bed is no concern of yours.”
“It’s my concern when it’s my house and the footman is staring at me like he wants to knock my bloody head off.”He slapped his hand on the table, a menacing glower on his face.
She met his gaze with her own, refusing to allow the brute to intimidate her.Her mother did not even intimidate her, and she had tried for twenty-two years.There was a gleam in his eyes that she didn’t recognize.Was that jealousy?Surely not, as they had just met.
“If it makes you feel better, I want to knock your bloody head off,” she said, rolling her eyes, a habit of hers that her mother despised.
“You can try, Princess.”He winked at her.
Winked!
“You’re an infuriating brute,” was Florentia witty reply to his insufferable behavior.
“Aye.And you’re a spoiled princess,” he responded without missing a beat.
Taking a nibble of her own toast, she ignored him, deciding to finish her breakfast in silence.His stare threatened to be her undoing, but she refused to bend.
A knock on the door interrupted the forced quiet.
“Enter,” she said, looking up expectantly.
“Your Grace, I’ve sent out missives to begin interviewing for a new valet and also sent a note to the tailor that His Grace will be arriving this afternoon,” Anderson said, looking from Florentia to the new duke.
“His Grace will not be arriving,” Tavish called over his shoulder.“My clothes are perfectly fine?—”
“Your clothes are not fine.I am personally taking you to the tailor.I’m surprised that your brother or Hughes didn’t arrange it for you.”
Hughes’s behavior really didn’t surprise her.He was her late husband’s oldest confidant, and of course, he would not offer any assistance to the new duke, especially one with the last name O’Brien.
“I told my brother to feck off,” Tavish said, wiping his mouth with his napkin before standing.
She closed her eyes briefly, ignoring Anderson’s sharp gasp at the duke’s language.“Well, then I guess you’re stuck with me.”
The smirk on his wicked lips and the twinkle in his eyes made Florentia feel that he didn’t mind at all.
Tavish looked like a nob.He supposed he was one now; after all he was the duke.A fact that still shocked him, even after being greeted repeatedly asYour GraceorSummerset.
