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“Lucy, I—”

“I cannot tell you how to behave, but I had hoped a gentleman like you would treat those underneath him with more dignity.” She ran her gaze up and down him. “I do not know what has happened over the years, but you are not the man I thought you were.”

Theo hardly knew what man she had thought him to be, and while he did regret his tone with the maid, the woman had been foolish, and she was well aware of that.

“I am not certain as to what you thought of me, but I’ve done nothing wrong. She needed scolding.”

Lucy opened her mouth then closed it again. With a huff, she turned on her heel and marched back toward the house. Theo groaned to himself. Had he just made his stay here even harder? Had he just made Lucy hate him? Just when he was beginning to really, really admire her.

Chapter Seven

Oh no. Lucy froze as the marquis marched toward her down the gallery hallway. She had successfully avoided him—at least for the most part—the whole week. She had no desire to face him after she had berated him for his behavior.

Behavior that she was still unimpressed with, but she was hardly in a position to argue with him now, was she? The man had her fate in his hands after all.

She could not explain how bitterly disappointed she was to find him yelling at Anna. The laundry maid was already timid as it was. How silly she had been to think that he might be the same man she had known as a child. All ideas of him sweeping in and declaring his love for her and being the most wonderful of men had vanished the moment she had seen him shouting at Anna. As silly as that idea might have been, it still hurt to let go of that.

Still, she was trying to prove that she was a grown-up. That meant girlish infatuations had to go.

It did not mean, however, that she was ready to face him. She twisted on a heel and prepared to scurry away. Yes, she would look silly, but for the life of her, she could not face him. He must know she had been avoiding him, and this encounter would be awkward indeed.

She propelled herself forward as she twisted and ran straight into a marbled pillar. The impact momentarily stunned her, and she staggered back a few steps.

A few steps that had her landing straight into Lord Eastbrook’s arms. She stilled at the feel of his firm embrace, her lungs constricting. He helped her straighten and twisted her to face him. His concerned gaze ran up and down her, lingering on her forehead, where she could feel a pounding ache from where it had connected with the pillar. No doubt she would end up with a bruise there.

He didn’t release her, and she was still a little dazed, so she could not draw herself away. Whether that affliction was from the impact of the pillar or him holding her in his arms, she did not know. Either way, she felt dizzy and heated.

“Miss Jameson, are you well?”

She had no response. Her mouth was dry.

He touched her forehead, and she winced. There was definitely damage there. Oh, what a fool she must look.

“You seem a little dazed. Perhaps I should call the doctor?”

She finally found the strength to move away from him. “No, no, I just need to lie down.” The last thing she needed was people fussing over her. The truth was, as soon as she broke the connection with him, she felt better already. Now, she needed to hide away for a little while and try to get over her embarrassment.

“Are you certain?”

“Yes, yes, quite certain.” She waved a hand and turned away, hastening down the corridor before he could say another word.

She made her way to her bedroom and slammed the door shut behind her, pressing her back against it and listening for footsteps. He had not followed her. She released a breath.

“What are you doing, miss?” Lizzie paused halfway through changing the bedding.

Lucy blinked at the maid. She had not even noticed she was in the room.

Lizzie dropped the sheet and came close, peering at Lucy’s forehead. “What on earth have you done to yourself?”

Lucy grimaced. “Made a fool of myself, it seems. I had a rather unfortunate meeting with the pillar,” she explained.

“Perhaps I should get some ice from the kitchen.” Lizzie put two gentle fingers to the bump that was forming on her head. “I think it is going to get bigger.”

Shaking her head, Lucy moved away from the door and sank down onto the unmade bed. “If I look silly, it will be no less than I deserve. But how can I face him?”

Lizzie came to sit beside her on the bed. “The marquis?”

She nodded.