Page 45 of A Virgin for the Rakish Duke
That comment struck Harriet; she had not thought she was being defensive, but the instinct to justify the way Jeremy's home looked was strong. She brought the trap to a halt in the courtyard before the entrance.
The house seemed silent; even the crows she could see atop the roof were hushed. Jane laughed nervously, licking her lips.
To show her own confidence, Harriet leaped down and then offered a hand to her friend. They approached the front door, arm in arm, and Harriet rapped with the ancient, iron knocker. She recognized the butler who appeared moments later,Atkins, and introduced herself and Jane. They were shown into the entrance hall and through to a sitting room.
“A lot of ominous-looking portraits of stern men,” Jane whispered as they arrived at the place.
“Yes, they have Jeremy's look. I think they must be ancestors. They are all over the house,” Harriet replied.
“My ancestors are part of a proud lineage. All have left the Penhaligon name more famous than they found it,” Jeremy remarked, sweeping into the room through a door in the corner.
He swung it shut behind him with enough force that it slammed, reverberating through the house. Harriet smiled at the sight of him, but it faded away as she saw the thunder on his face.
“Have we caught you at a bad time?” she asked, feeling anxious while telling herself there was no need.
Except for the fact that he may yet reject me. Having enjoyed me first. But then I always knew that this was a temporary affair. No, not an affair. That was the one thing it was not supposed to be!
“Not at all. I am open to visitors today,” he grinned wolfishly. “I have to be, it seems. I am not surprised to see you after my earlier guests. I should have expected that you would be on their heels.”
Jeremy sat in a chair beside the fire, hands hanging over the arms and legs crossed in front of him. He looked like a Viking Earl, at his ease in his mead hall.
“And who were your earlier guests, Your Grace?” Jane asked.
Jeremy glared at her, making her shift in her seat uncomfortably. Harriet bristled at the Duke’s hostile attitude.
“An honest question, since you volunteered that you have had visitors today,” she defended pointedly. “If you would prefer we did not ask, then—”
“The Earl and Countess of Sutton, and their fine son, Simon. Apologies, I do not recall his courtesy title,” Jeremy interrupted with an insolent smile.
“Ah, a successful meeting, I hope. For your plans?”
Now, the glare was turned on her, but the intensity behind it was stronger. Harriet glared back, refusing to be intimidated. Inside, though, she shriveled at the notion that Jeremy now disliked her for some reason.
Is he really nothing but a vacuous rake? Using women and discarding them? Have I surrendered my honor for this man in vain?
“It was not,” Jeremy snapped, “do you not know?”
“How could I? I have only just arrived.”
“One does not need to be present if one has already been briefed as to the outcome of a meeting. I imagine the Winchesters are familiar with Oaksgrove.”
Harriet clutched at the arms of her chair to keep from surging to her feet or even wagging a finger at Jeremy.
He accuses me of going behind his back? Of conspiring against him over his wretched business?
“They have never visited us at Oaksgrove, and I have not been...briefed,as you say. I know nothing of their intentions. How could I? You never cared to disclose them.” She tried to keep her voice reasonable, but knew that she was glaring and could not help it.
“My, it is such a lovely day, I should love to take a look at the gardens,” Jane interjected, standing.
Jeremy also stood, followed by Harriet.
“Of course, I should be glad to give you a tour of the grounds,” Jeremy muttered.
“I will not hear of it, Your Grace. It seems the two of you have much to discuss, and I suddenly feel the need for open spaces and fresh air. Now, if you will excuse me.”
Jeremy bowed, and Jane took her leave. Harriet caught her arm as she reached the door.
“I'm sorry. We should leave. I did not expect this,” she whispered.