“In my private sitting room. What are you doing in here?”

“I needed to speak with you, and it grew quite late.” She brushed a lock of hair from her forehead. “I couldn’t think of another way to ensure I saw you tonight.”

“Surely whatever you need to discuss can wait until tomorrow.” He tried not to look at her dressing gown, which exposed a V of flesh from her elegant throat to the alluring valley of her breasts. “And surely it didn’t require you come here to wait for me.”

“It absolutely did.” She rose in a graceful movement that caused the blanket to cascade down her leg and drape over the side of the chaise. “I met with Mr. Dyer today, and he gave me some rather startling information.”

The pleasure of watching her clashed with her words, jarring him into a state of dissonance. “Dyer?” Shit. There was only one reason Dyer would speak with her, and yes, it would have surprised the hell out of her.

“He told you about my father’s will.”

One of her auburn brows arched, and the edge of her lip curled. “He thought you had. Imagine his mortification when he realized I was ignorant of the entire matter. That wasn’t very kind of you.”

“I didn’t see a need to tell you unless it came to pass. I never expected that would happen—that I wouldn’t wed in time. Rather, I didn’t allow myself to think of that.” Losing Horethorne was unimaginable.

There was a bare hiss as she exhaled quickly. “Apparently, you didn’t allow yourself to think of me either. But then I am no one of import, just your ward for whom you are responsible and for whom you have been charged with settling into an advantageous marriage.”

“Which you have indicated you aren’t interested in at the moment.”

“You also failed to mention the sum of my dowry. Six thousand pounds! Or the fact that it would be mine should I fail to wed by my twenty-fifth birthday.”

He shifted his weight, uncomfortable beneath the weight of her stare. She was right—he hadn’t thought of her. He’d seen it as his duty to manage the situation because she was his ward, and it had never occurred to him to inform or consult her. Why would he when he hadn’t expected any of these things to come to pass? “Just as I failed to consider that I wouldn’t marry as outlined by my father, I also didn’t imagine you wouldn’t wed by then. I thought your reluctance was in the short term, as you acclimated to London, and that in three years’ time, you would undoubtedly be married. Unless you plan to reject every proposal you receive.”

“I might. Particularly now that I know I’ll have six thousand of my own pounds if I do.” She stuck out her chin. “But again, you discounted my right to know, let alone make choices. How am I to make decisions about my life, about my future, when I am not fully informed?”