The Duchess Games by Alyxandra Harvey

Author:Alyxandra Harvey [Harvey, Alyxandra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

The next morning Cat went home.

Mostly to reassure herself that her brother was safe, her animals cared for, and her cellars undiscovered. They might be empty but hopefully that wouldn’t be the case for much longer.

Sleep eluded her as usual. But this time, between bouts of fretting, she couldn’t stop remembering the feel of Callum pressing against her. The things he’d said to her. The things he’d done to her. It was a mistake to replay them in her head, over and over until she was squirming with need. A mistake, but utterly impossible to avoid.

As was Callum, himself.

She dressed, wound her hair in a knot and traded her one pair of good shoes for her usual boots. Matthew was nearly a man grown and could no doubt take care of himself, but he wouldn’t bother with proper meals, just a hunk of bread stuffed in his pocket so he could race off to the blacksmith. The anvil and the blacksmith’s daughter held equal appeal. He probably hadn’t eaten properly since she’d left. He most certainly hadn’t weeded the cabbages.

And it would be hours before anyone else was up and about, never mind ready for whatever torture the dowager duchess had devised. It would be something suitably refined, meant to put Cat firmly back into her place. As many times as was necessary.

Cat was quite sure there would be no village lottery for the next event held at Penhallow. Noblesse Oblige wasn’t meant to be such a nuisance.

“There’s a smile for the devil himself,” Callum said drily from right behind her.

Startled, Cat tried to punch him in the throat.

Hard.

He didn’t bother dodging, only caught her fist before it connected with any part of his anatomy. Her heart raced and leapt right into her throat where it contemplated taking up permanent residence. She made a strange sound, somewhere between a laugh and a yelp.

“Miss Sparrow,” he said calmly, just this side of stern. He was wearing a magnificently embroidered waistcoat. She was wearing a dress with a mended patch under the right arm. He raised an eyebrow.

Every part of her went hot and needy.

She swallowed a curse and attempted to school her features into something normal and not like a woman trying not to salivate. Honestly. It was embarrassing. And she’d been humiliated enough. “Your Grace.” Her voice squeaked slightly but that at least could be attributed to getting caught trying to plant a duke a facer.

“I don’t think fisticuffs are on the agenda for these blasted games,” he said. His blue eyes turned to tarnished silver. Mesmerizing and filled with secrets. A veritable pirates’ hoard.

She never used to be so fanciful. It was probably not a good sign. Next, she’d follow a will-o’-the-wisp and fall into a bog.

The fact that anyone, especially the sophisticated Lady Siddal, could feel threatened by her, a fisherman’s daughter turned bog witch, was laughable.

“Caitriona.”

She’d gotten lost in her thoughts again. Bollocks. She knew the sound of someone having said her name more than once. Callum was patient, with none of the exasperation she was accustomed to.

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