He was wearing a white cotton shirt which the laces were undone to reveal a good amount of his chest. And his long hair was packed upwards, leaving a few wispy tendrils dangling over his smoky eyes.
Her eyes drifted down to his dust-coated, snug-fitted breeches and the work boots he was wearing. His hands were dark with grime and there were splotches on his face and neck… but it only seemed to make her mouth water.
"Maltreating me?"
He remained at the threshold and held her gaze.
"I sent for you to break your fast at the dining in the gardens… and you declined. Instead, you prefer to stay here and endure the noise."
She folded her arms across her chest. "Are you concerned about my welfare now?"
His left brow arched up smoothly as if such a thing could never be possible.
Her hands clenched.
"I am perfectly fine. You can return back to your duties, Sir Theodore."
He took a step into the room, crossing the threshold, then stopped.
