Page 2 of To Desire a Wicked Duke (Courtship Wars)

“If Hennessy took advantage of you, I will have to call him out.”

“You cannot be serious!” Tess stared at him, appalled to think he might not be jesting. The last Duke of Rotham, Laurence Sutherland, had ended his licentious career when he was killed in a duel over a married woman by her jealous husband. His son Ian had followed a similar reckless path all through his youth, generating wild tales of gambling and womanizing. Ian Sutherland’s scandalous endeavors had earned him the nickname “the Devil Duke” when he came into the title eight years ago. But surely he would not actually shoot Hennessy for the mere act of kissing her.

“You know very well that dueling is illegal,” Tess objected, “in addition to being dangerous and possibly even lethal.”

Rotham’s mouth tightened again, as if he too had recalled his sire’s ignominious end. “Indeed.”

When he said nothing further, Tess suddenly recalled the confusing remark he’d made before ordering the actor from the ballroom. “What did you mean when you said Mr. Hennessy should have been ‘protecting’ me?”

Rotham waved a careless hand in dismissal. “It is of no import.”

“I should like to know.” Tess fixed him with a stubborn gaze, determined not to back down.

He must have sensed her resolve, for he gave a shrug of his broad shoulders. “When you began spending so much time at the Theatre Royal in Covent Garden in preparation for your last charity event, I charged Hennessy with keeping an eye on you. The theater district is a dangerous area, especially for an unescorted young lady.”

Her eyebrows lifted in puzzlement. “So you asked him to look after me?”

“Yes. I paid him a significant sum, in fact.”

So that explained why Hennessy always insisted on escorting her to and from her carriage, Tess realized, and why he had hovered around her whenever she attended rehearsals. She had thought it was because the actor was growing enamored of her company. Irrationally, she couldn’t help feeling a prick to her self-esteem.

“My companion usually accompanies me to the theater,” she pointed out to Rotham.

“Your companion is an aging spinster with all the substance of a butterfly. She would be no help whatsoever if you were confronted by trouble.”

That much was true, Tess conceded. Mrs. Dorothy Croft was tiny and gentle and soft-spoken, in addition to being a bit scatterbrained. The impoverished friend of Tess’s late mother, Dorothy had needed somewhere to live after being widowed, so Tess had opened her home in Chiswick to her. The relationship had also benefited Tess. With a genteel, elderly lady to lend her single state respectability, she had much more freedom to conduct her charitable endeavors.

“I have a sturdy coachman and footmen to provide me protection should I require it,” Tess argued.

; Rotham’s vivid gray gaze never faltered. “Even so, I thought it wise to ensure your safety. And you would not readily have accepted any edicts from me.”

That was also certainly true. They had long been at odds—which is what made Rotham’s current interest in her safety so startling. That he might be seriously concerned for her welfare had never crossed her mind.

“Well, you needn’t worry about me, your grace. I am capable of providing for my own protection.”

“Then you should refrain from kissing the likes of Hennessy. And he had best keep away from you. If he dares to touch you again, he will answer to me.”

At the edge of possessiveness in the duke’s tone, Tess’s eyebrows narrowed in disbelief. He could not possibly be jealous. No doubt he was merely angry at Hennessy for disobeying a direct order, and at her for daring to contradict him.

“Your transgressions are a thousand times worse, Rotham.”

“But I am not an unmarried young lady, as you are.”

“I am not so young any more,” Tess rejoined.

Instead of replying, Rotham hesitated, as if suddenly aware how sharp his tone had become. Shaking his head, he seemed visibly to repress his emotions, as if distancing himself from their argument.

His succeeding laugh was soft and laced with real amusement. “You are hardly ancient, Miss Blanchard. You only just turned twenty-three today.”

Tess eyed him with suspicion. “How did you know it was my birthday?”

“As head of the family, it is my business to know.”

“You are not head of my family.”

“For all practical purposes, I am.”