Page 37 of Greed: The Savage
But Addien wasn’t those things.
And yet here he went, time and time again, inflicting pointless jabs against her. It wasn’t her fault. The blame landed squarely with him. Thornwick forced himself as penance to admit the foul taste in his mouth and the seething, twisting inside stemmed from jealousy. He was jealous of the young woman’s regard for the guard, Roy.
Standing shoulder to shoulder alongside Addien in Baroness Darrow’s foyer, gaslight flickered over embossed walls and a velvet portière framing the rooms beyond like a stage. Every surface whispered expense, from the marble-topped console with its silver calling-card tray to the polished stair with brass rods, all arranged to proclaim the widow’s importance before she ever spoke. He and Addien stood stiffly and silently towards one another, both of them divested of their cloaks. He felt like a bloody heel, as he should.
The feisty Addien had not spared so much as a word for him after his cruel barb. It would’ve been far easier had she used her usual clever, biting choice words for him, but the fact that shedidn’t merely served to highlight how much bigger a person she was than Thornwick.
Curse his soul to hell. First, it had been seeing her all warm and feminine and open with Roy. Then there’d been the moment when she placed her fingertips in his, right before she’d hitched her skirts high enough for him to get a long glance at her shapely, muscular legs, and because of it, because of that one bloody look, he’d been as pathetic as a green lad with his first woman.
And in the span of a heartbeat, he’d envisioned having Addien in his bed. Without a doubt, she’d be an absolute hellcat. She wouldn’t want it gentle. She’d like it rough and to be in charge, in full command, just as Thornwick himself was. As a rule, he preferred to take the lead in the bedroom. He was the master and he wanted his partners to be ones who knew it.
But in knowing Addien, and knowing absolutely no other woman like her, he could say with confidence he’d like to go head-to-head with her. And being absolutely truthful with himself, he could readily admit it had rubbed on his last primal nerve that she’d been lusting for a bloody bloke like Roy.
Quietly cursing, he consulted his timepiece. What the hell was he doing standing here lamenting his previous callous treatment of Addien and envy at Roy for being the man she lusted after, when he needed to be focused on his singular goal—finding a bride his father wholeheartedly disapproved of so he could make her the future duchess and no doubt send the miserable bastard to an early grave at having landed himself such a tainted, disreputable marchioness? The pair of ridiculously garishly pink, uniformed, bewigged footmen of matching height and stature exchanged looks. No doubt, they were both bedding his potentially future bride. Ironically, that didn’t grate as he suspected it should.
“Oy,” Addien said from the corner of her mouth. “Need I remind you we’re on the baroness’s time. So try and conceal some of your eagerness, will you?”
Thornwick gnashed his teeth.
And here she was completely unaffected. Her absolute disinterest in him juxtaposed with his maddening hunger for her sent his fury skyrocketing.
Fortunately, Thornwick was saved from making an ass of himself yet again.
“Her ladyship is ready to see you now, my lord.”
He and Addien spoke under their breaths at the same time.
“About bloody time.”
“At bloody last.”
Together they followed along behind the same staid fellow, in an identical repeat of their entrance yesterday. And just like yesterday, the minute they were shown into the room, Baroness Darrow looked down the length of her gracefully tapered Grecian nose at Addien again. The sight of that arrogant dismissal annoyed him even more than it had yesterday.
“Lord Thornwick.” Her attempts at a smoky contralto were cringe-worthy, especially so when the tall regal woman stood in the presence of woman who naturally was as unaffected as Eve.
“Please, follow me,” she said, and with an equally obvious sway of her hips, she turned and led the way inside the room where they’d first met yesterday.
He and Addien both hesitated, waiting for the immediate dismissal. Alas, the baroness either intended to replicate yesterday’s exchange entirely or was up to something else differently.
The minute they were inside, it became apparent. Baroness Darrow wasn’t so clever as to concoct or usher in a new exchange. They went through the motions, with her directing Addien. And this time, as she ordered her in various places,Addien didn’t flinch. She kept a serene facade. God, what it must be costing her. The bloody baroness and her grating was making his teeth ache.
Hell, the baroness was dull, dimwitted, cruel, outrageously debauched. And as such, she’d be perfect to drive the duke absolutely mad. The question was, however, was Thornwick willing to drive himself mad in the process?
The baroness, seeming deflated, sat back in the folds of her white satin armchair. She let her enormous lips form a big pout.
“Lord Dynevor assured me you were better at your work than you presented yesterday. Given your…” She scraped another derisive stare over Addien’s delicately trim person. “Given the look of you and the sound of you, you’ve got street all over your person. As such, I’d been doubt—”
“Is the purpose of my being here for you to discuss the adequacy of the Earl of Dynevor’s employees? Because there are countless women who seek interviews. This is a waste of both mine and Miss Killoran’s time.” With that, he stood while Addien remained impressively seated as any young lady born and bred to the peerage. But Addien was slow to mask her shock. For that matter, so too was Baroness Darrow.
Shock drew attention to the natural creases of displeasure that appeared to be etched in the otherwise notorious beauty’s face. Now, it became increasingly apparent the more time spent with the lady how much of her natural skin and features were a product of some clever maid’s work.
Baroness Darrow collected herself and spoke with meticulous aplomb.
“MissKilloran,” the baroness said. Her voice dripped with scathing condescension and judgment, all in a clear attempt to convey the ridiculousness of Addien having any surname. “If you’ll excuse his lordship and I, a peer and peeress desire sometime alone.” She put enough husky emphasis there so there could be absolutely no doubt about her innuendo.
This time, as Addien stiffly rose from her spot in the corner, she could not contain the flash of bitter resentment from flashing across her usually inexpressive face at being so ordered around. Unlike yesterday, where he’d wanted nothing more than for her to shut her mouth and comply, he was hit with a fresh swell of frustration at her leaving.
“Oh, one more thing, Miss Killoran,” the baroness said snidely. “The footman outside will show you to the receiving room. I’ll have you fetched when his lordship and I are through.”
