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“There’s a man,” he whispered. “Who? You must tell me.”

Theo decided now was an excellent time to shift her papers to the other side of her desk again. “There is no man,” she told the papers. “And even if there were, I would not discuss it with you. That would be unprofessional and inappropriate."

“Those are two of my favorite things.”

Theo snorted before she could catch herself. She met Bash’s devilish gaze, and they shared a small grin. She truly loved Bash. And she was incredibly grateful that he and Her Grace had been so welcoming when she’d come aboard as steward. Not that they’d had a say, of course. His Grace held that power. As far as Theo knew, he hadn’t spoken to his stepmother nor Bash since he’d left the estate all those years ago. But that hadn’t meant they’d needed to treat her like family. A part of Theo thought Her Grace longed for a daughter—or possibly even just a friend—and so treated Theo that way.

Heavy bootsteps echoed from the hall. Both her and Bash’s attention slid to the doorway. The footsteps grew louder.

Bash glanced back at Theo, eyes wide. “The Duke?” he mouthed.

Theo nodded because there was no mistaking those confident heavy strides. Theo also knew from Bash that the Duke had still yet to make himself known to Bash and Her Grace.

His Grace strode into Theo’s office. And slowed to halt, his impassive stare raking over Bash. Well, it appeared they were meeting now.

Bash slowly rose to his feet. All smiles were gone. It was stone meeting stone as the two brothers took each other in.

Sebastian gradually inclined in a slight bow, gaze dropping to the floor for the briefest moment. “Your Grace.” His tone held a guardedness that was rare for Bash. Theo couldn’t blame him. The Duke had all but ignored Bash and his mother, and while Bash had been too young when the late duke had passed to remember the man’s atrocities, he’d heard the stories. There was no way to know if this duke was of the same ilk.

The Duke’s expression gave nothing away. “Lord Sebastian.”

His Grace’s Viking-like stature, scar, and glacial expression didn’t exactly instill confidence that he was a pleasant man. Yet…

Theo couldn’t put her finger on why, but she just could feel it in her bones that he wasn’t a bad man. Which truly made no sense. He was trying to get her to sleep with him. Not just that, but he’d arrogantly declared she would.

But not by force. Not by coercion.

Theo shouldn’t find that attractive. That was the bare minimum. She bit her lip. But goodness, he was quite the specimen of a man. As long as he kept his attire on, she would be fine. She could resist a hard-muscled, broad-shouldered, thick-thighed—oh, for heaven’s sakes. Get your act together, woman!

His Grace’s stare traveled to Theo. Back to Bash. Back to Theo. His cheek ticked. And Theo’s mouth almost dropped open. He was not thinking what she thought he was thinking.

“So, Lord Sebastian. Do you often pass your time in my steward’s office?” He turned back to his half-brother. “Miss Dawson is a busy woman. She doesn’t need to add entertaining you to the list.”

Dear heavens. He was thinking what she thought he was thinking.

Bash’s nostrils flared.

“I spend quite a bit of time here, Your Grace,” Bash said softly. “I have taken quite an interest in the…estate. As I care deeply for it.”

The sound of crinkling papers filled the chamber. Theo’s attention dropped to the papers currently being strangled in the Duke’s hand.

“Be that as it may,” His Grace said stiffly, “the estate is not yours.”

Theo closed her eyes and prayed for patience. This was ridiculous. Perhaps they should just drop their trousers now and see who was more well-endowed. This was clearly turning into a cock-measuring competition.

Of which Theo appeared to be the prize.

Which was slightly hilarious. Bash was a child compared to Theo, not to mention she thought of him as a little brother. And the whole…Bash preferred men. Amusement bubbled up in her chest, and she coughed to cover it up.

Both men’s gazes snapped to hers.

“Pardon me.” She cleared her throat and gestured toward the poor, mutilated papers. “Did you have something you needed me to look at, Your Grace?”

“I do.” He glanced at Bash and waited.

And waited.

Bash lifted his chin. He wasn’t leaving despite the Duke’s silent demand.