Page 100 of The Texan Duke
He grinned at her, which was worse than the glare and the frown.
She grabbed her reticule and valise and tried—she really did—to get past Connor. He merely took the valise from her.
“Why did you go to Inverness?”
She turned toward the path at the back of the house. She would talk to Douglas later when she didn’t have an irritated/charming/annoying duke on her hands.
“I went to see if I could buy a property,” she said. “I need a place to live.”
“You live here.”
She sent him a sideways glance. “For now, but not for very long. You’ve made that abundantly clear.”
He was frowning at her again.
She frowned right back.
The stableboy had disappeared, and the driver was walking the carriage into the stable. Perhaps it was better if they had their confrontation out here, where there was no one listening.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?” he asked.
She hadn’t expected that question. Nor had she anticipated seeing that expression on his face, almost as if she’d insulted him. Or worse, done something that had wounded him.
How ridiculous. She hadn’t wounded Connor McCraight.
“Well?”
“Am I to tell you my comings and goings now, Your Grace? One night in my bed does not give you that power.”
“You were a virgin, Elsbeth.”
She looked at him incredulously. “Thank you for informing me of that fact, Your Grace. I was well aware.”
“You should’ve told me.”
“You should have anticipated,” she said, annoyed. “Or did you think I took every visitor to Bealadair to my bed?”
He pushed his hat back on his head, his mouth thinned, and he looked as if he were biting back words. He really didn’t need to watch his comments around her. She was prepared for anything he might have to say.
Besides, she’d already gotten her tears out of the way on the way home.
“Why did you take me to your bed?”
“As I remember it, Your Grace, it was a mutual decision. You needn’t act as if you were powerless to refuse my invitation.”
“Damn close to it.”
She blinked at him, startled. A warmth began to blossom in the pit of her stomach. No, she was not going to be flattered by such an admission. Nor was she going to be amused by his exasperated expression.
Good, if he was feeling the least bit confused about their relationship, it was only a small fraction of what she was feeling.
“I don’t want you to leave,” he said. “At least, not until the house is sold.”
“You don’t get a choice about when I leave, Your Grace. I have my future to consider.”
He removed his hat, threaded his fingers through his hair, replaced his hat, and nodded to her.
“I know that. I’m just hoping you stick around.”
