Free Kiss of a Traitor by Cat Lindler Page B

legs brushed against her skirt. The slight motion released a strong odor of manure from the stain along the hem. He pinched his nostrils and stumbled backward.
    “Wilhelmina, I have no wish to appear severe, but I’m sure you will agree we must begin as we mean to go on. I see no acceptable excuse for obliging me to wait upon your convenience. I made it perfectly clear I intended to call at precisely two of the clock.” He swept the gold watch from his fob pocket and flicked it open. “The time is now two and twenty-two.”
    She lowered her lashes and stared down at her dress hem. “I truly lament my tardiness, Montford, as I feel assured your time is valuable. But, as I already informed you, I was attending to a most pressing matter.”
    He fumbled in his coat pocket, drew forth a lace handkerchief, and held it against his nose as he leaned farther away from her. “I daresay, from your state of untidiness and … and additional evidence, this most pressing endeavor transpired inside the stables. I could very nearly entertain the notion you’ve been mucking out horse stalls.”
    When she looked up again, a smile hovered about her lips, making him strongly suspect her state of disarray was intentional rather than accidental. How dare the chit! He might not be, in fact, a lord, but she had no notion of that. She owed him the respect she would accord any peer, counterfeit or otherwise. He strolled away to place himself beyond the offending odor and rounded on her. The skin tightened over his cheekbones. “As I can see you are unaware of the proprieties, I feel ‘tis my duty to inform you that assuming the role of a stable hand is beyond the pale for a future baroness. I have no option but to forbid you to perform labor in the stables again. One has servants to deal with such tasks, do you not concur? Furthermore, never again will you deign to present yourself before me in such a disheveled state.”
    She straightened, steel stiffening her shoulders and fire kindling in her eyes.
    Could the girl be averse to having orders flung at her in an autocratic manner? Never mind she had clearly gone to great pains to prick his displeasure. With her nature, surely discord was a common situation. She compressed her lips, and he suspected that were she to release her temper, she would inform him of precisely what he could do with his orders. He had little doubt it involved a certain part of a polecat’s anatomy.
    The truth was written on her face. The girl could not abide authority. This knowledge of her nature could prove useful in keeping their impending wedding at bay. He pressed his advantage and surged forward aggressively with his hands braced on his hips.
    “Listen to me, and listen well,” he said in the clipped tone he used when issuing reprimands to the men he commanded. “I shall return on Saturday at eleven. We will ride out for a picnic. As you have familiarity with the vicinity, you will choose a suitable spot. I shall expect you to attire yourself in an appropriate manner befitting your station and appear promptly when I call.” Her features assumed a recalcitrant expression. “I will have your obedience, Wilhelmina,” he added, as if she were a child. “Am I perfectly clear?”
    Her hands formed white-knuckled fists, and she nodded. By the look on her face, she garnered all her strength to bid her neck to bend.
    Ford tilted his head to one side. “Beg pardon? I did not quite hear you, my dear,” he said with glee. Even so, he managed to maintain a severe expression. “Could you kindly repeat what you said?”
    “Perfectly clear,” she grated out through a jaw as tight as a bear trap.
    Confident he had successfully driven another peg into the coffin of their relationship, he smiled faintly but with an inner satisfaction. “Capital. Then we are in agreement.” He nodded curtly and swept past her without another word.
    When he reached the doorway, he turned to fire off a parting salvo. “Despair not,