Vexing the Viscount

“You can’t just force your way in there, my lord,” Mrs. Turner said loudly.

“She’s my wife and I can do damn well whatever I want to get her back.”

Tia wondered who was hiding from a husband. There were two other women staying at the inn but Tia hadn’t socialized with them. She had heard the woman in the room across from her say she was a widow. Perhaps she truly wasn’t. It wasn’t that uncommon for women to leave their husbands, especially if abuse was involved. Unfortunately, the husband had every legal right to drag her back to his home. Heavy footsteps drew near but she went back to the buttons on her dress.

“Unlock it,” the man demanded.

“Yes, my lord,” Mrs. Turner replied. “Shouldn’t you at least knock?”

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“Now.”

With a slight shrug, Tia slipped the last button through its hole and started to remove her gray muslin dress. As she bared one shoulder, the door to her room swung open. Tia gasped and she clutched the gaping dress at her breast. Shocked, she could only stare at the man in the doorway. His black attire was dirty as if he’d been riding for days. From the look of the growth of hair on his jaw, she realized he probably had ridden for days.

“You may leave us now, Mrs. Turner.”

“No, Mrs. Turner, you need to stay,” Tia replied as she stared at him. His icy blue eyes narrowed on her.

Mrs. Turner glanced between the two of them. She hesitated before saying, “Miss Featherstone, he swears you are his wife.”

“I am most certainly not his wife!”

“But it is your word to his,” she said. “The man is—”

“A bloody viscount. I know that,” Tia replied as she turned her gaze to him. “And do I look like a bloody viscountess?”

Mrs. Turner shrugged. “I—I—”

“Leave us,” he demanded, staring coldly at Mrs. Turner.

“Mrs. Turner,” Tia implored her. “He is lying.”

“Perhaps,” she whispered. “But I can’t take the chance that he is speaking the truth. I could lose everything.” She eased out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Tia turned her fury on the smirking man leaning against the closed door. “What are you doing here, Middleton?”

He crossed his arms over his chest as his sneer turned into a frown. “Bringing my wise woman home.”

How dare this man attempt to bring her back to the estate as if he owned her! “I am done with that position.”

He tilted his head. “Indeed? I do not remember receiving a letter of resignation.”

“So you came all the way to London to get one?” She started to reach for a piece of paper before remembering her state of undress. She grabbed her bodice to keep it from falling.

“Is there a problem?” he asked with a slight grin.

His stare burned her skin as if he’d touched her. Ridiculous thought, she told herself. The man was only angry because she left without notifying him. Still, that wicked grin reminded her of his reputation with the ladies in London.

“If you want a letter of resignation, just give me a minute. Turn around.”

His gaze never wavered from hers. She’d never noticed just how light blue his eyes were until now, but they also held a coldness that she’d couldn’t abide.

“Please turn around, my lord.”

“I didn’t come all this way for a letter of resignation,” he remarked.

“Then why are you here?”