Page 36 of The Duke's Impossible Deal
She stalked out of the room. “No, this will not do.”
“Your Grace? Where are you going?” Mrs. Patmore called after her.
“To speak with my husband!” Rowen shouted back as she stormed up the stairs. “He does not even have a tea set, my goodness! The kind of things men think are not essential truly boggle the mind. No wonder he is a recluse.”
She reached the door of his study and rapped hard on the door, barely bothering to wait for his reply before she flung it open.
Tobias turned to face her. The sunlight streaming through the window sharpened his profile, making his green eyes sparkle like a forest in the depths of winter.
He looked like a fey prince, with an otherworldly beauty that would have been bewitching if she had not been so irritated. He arched an eyebrow at her and leaned against the windowsill, his arms folded across his chest.
“And to what do I owe this pleasure?” His voice held a note of amusement.
That jolted her out of her reverie, and she gave herself a little shake as her anger reared back up.
He has no right to be this handsome and this irritating. No right at all.
“Do you enjoy living like this?” she demanded, her temper getting the better of her.
“If you mean, do I enjoy having a beautiful woman storm into my study, then yes, I do.” He executed a mocking bow. “Though I admit, it would be far more enjoyable if you did not look like you were about to commit murder.”
“Do not think to distract me with your empty compliments, Tobias,” Rowen growled.
“And why are you convinced that I do not say what I mean?” Tobias cocked his head.
Rowen decided not to play his little game and gestured around the practically empty room. “What I meant was whether you enjoy living like you are a monk who has taken a vow of simplicity.”
“You know some rather wild monks if you think I am like one.” He chuckled, his eyes darkening. “I assure you, I am not monk-like in the slightest. I can prove it if you wish.”
Oh, I will not rise to your bait. Not this time.
Rowen moved closer to him. “Then why do you have an aversion to furniture and basic things that make socializing possible and living pleasurable?”
“I simply do not care for frills.” He shrugged and made a dismissive motion with his fingers. “Why bother with extravagance?”
“A tea set is not an extravagance; it is a necessity if one is to socialize like a civilized person. Most houses have at least two or three sets, and we do not even have one!” Rowen held up her hand to illustrate her point. “I can count on one hand just how many sofas we have, and I do not even need all of my fingers to do it.”
“Perhaps I like it that way.” He gave her a wicked grin. “I assure you, I put what little I have to good use. One can always find a suitable seat if one is willing to be creative.”
“Talented as you are, I doubt even your lap could hold all of my friends at once.” She gave him a sweet smile and noticed with satisfaction that his cheeks turned a delicate shade of scarlet.
A taste of your own medicine.
“That depends on how many friends you have and how willing you are to share.” He leaned towards her.
“I am not known for sharing, Duke.” She did not back away from him. “And quite frankly, the lack of proper seating is just one ofthe many things this place is missing. There are no decorations, no art, no rugs—nothing. It makes this house seem utterly uninviting and unwelcoming, and I am sick to death of it. You may be happy to live like a mad hermit, but I am not.”
“That is a little extreme, do you not think? It is only furniture, and I barely drink tea, so what is the point of having a tea set?” Tobias countered. “No one else has complained.”
“And how many women have you entertained? No, do not answer that. I do not want to know.” She waved her hand. “Most people expect a place they visit to be furnished.”
“It is furnished.” Tobias gestured around them. “There is a desk here, a chair—what else do you need?”
“Tobias, I want to be able to invite my friends over. They are like family to me, and right now, I fear Cora would not even have a decent place to sit. And, as amusing as I find the thought of the telling-off she would give you if you suggested that she sit on the floor or a desk or a cupboard, I also value her company, and she will not visit if she is not guaranteed a comfortable sofa.”
Rowen let the image of Cora tugging on her husband’s ear cool her anger.
She let out a long, shaky breath. “I am not trying to force you into a life of frills and frippery. Goodness only knows that is not the kind of woman I am. But I do want to be able to have a social life.”
