She crossed her arms. βYour Grace. I have never been so
insulted. I am not accustomed to having my word questioned.β
βWell you must become accustomed to it if you are going to
continue to break into other peopleβs homes at your whim.β
βYou should as well if you are going to lie to your guests
about your whereabouts.β
He took a step forward and looked down his nose at her.
Every part of her body awakened to his proximity. A whiff of
cedar tickled her nose.
βMiss Malboeuf, you would do well to learn the customs of
English society. It is my prerogative to turn away callers I
do not wish to see. When my butler told you I was not at
home, you should have understood it meant I did not wish to
give you audience.β
She took a step back, hoping her mind would reengage. βIt is
still an untruth, which is the same thing as a lie. Why not
tell the truth? Then I would have known your intentions from
the start."
The duke clenched his jaw. βPerhaps you should seek out
someone who can provide you lessons in deportment.β
βThat wonβt be necessary, Your Grace. I attended a class on
deportment in New Orleans.β
His gaze dropped to her unshod feet. βItβs a pity you
werenβt able to complete the course.β