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Chapter Thirty-Three: Late Night words

The night was quiet and still, the only sound the occasional rustle of leaves against the windows of the Islington estate. Theodore sat in the study of his private wing, the faint glow of a fire crackling softly in the hearth casting shadows against the walls. His thoughts, however, were far from the comfortable luxury of his surroundings.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, fingers poised over the screen. He’d been thinking of Eleanor ever since the formal tea ended. The way her skin had felt under his hand, the quiet tension they had shared beneath the table, it lingered in his mind, stoking a fire he could not ignore. The air between them had thickened, the flirtation undeniable, but there was something more beneath it—a spark of desire, of something he could not quite place but was eager to explore further.

His fingers hovered over the screen for a moment before he typed, his words smooth, his usual elite English laced with that charming arrogance he knew worked on her.

“Lady Kensington, I must ask... are you wearing the crimson lace lingerie I had placed on your bed earlier today? I do wonder how it looks on you...”

He read the message over and over, a small smirk tugging at his lips. It was bold, perhaps even scandalous, but in his mind, it was the perfect blend of teasing and provocation. He could almost hear her breath hitch, could imagine the slight flush that would color her cheeks. But no matter what her response would be, he knew one thing for certain: she was no stranger to the game they played, and she wasn’t one to shy away from his challenges.

He set the phone down on the desk, feeling the sudden anticipation crawl under his skin. Theodore knew Eleanor was sharp—she wouldn’t take the bait so easily, and that only made the game more interesting. He poured himself a glass of wine, the rich red liquid swirling in the glass, as he waited, allowing the minutes to stretch on.

The screen on his phone lit up with a new notification, and Theodore’s heart skipped a beat. She had replied.

“Why would you think I’d indulge in such things, Lord Blackwood? A lady’s lingerie is her business, and not for the eyes of men, unless, of course, she’s to be wed. But then again, what do I know of what pleases you?”

The words were daring, flirtatious even, but beneath her playful tone, he sensed the challenge. Eleanor was clever, never one to give in too easily. It was the same thing that had drawn him to her from the very beginning—the way she pushed back, the way she refused to be boxed into the expectations of society. She wasn’t like the other women who crumbled under the weight of his attention.

He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as he read her message. She had answered his flirtation, matched him with her own brand of wit and charm. He poured another glass of wine, the silence of the room settling over him once more as he contemplated his next words.

“Ah, my lady, I find it rather hard to believe that you have no idea what would please me. I do believe you’ve seen more than your fair share of my desires, and I wonder how long you’ll keep me guessing. Perhaps one day, I will be fortunate enough to see you in the crimson lace... if you are daring enough to let me.”

He set the phone down again, his pulse quickening with the anticipation of her response. It was a bold move, but he knew Eleanor wouldn’t back down. She would play her part, just as he had been playing his. The thrill of it—the chase, the push and pull—was intoxicating. It was more than just physical; it was a battle of wills, an unspoken understanding that neither of them would be the first to surrender.

Moments passed. Theodore’s thoughts wandered, and just as he reached for the wine glass again, his phone buzzed. His eyes flicked to the screen, and his lips parted in surprise as he read her reply.

“Perhaps I will let you see, Theodore. But you must promise me one thing: when the time comes, I will be the one in control. After all, a lady must keep some power over the man who wishes to see her in such things, don't you think?”

His heart raced. He hadn’t expected her to be quite so bold, quite so confident in her response. It was exactly what he wanted to hear. She was playing along, matching him in every way. And the prospect of her taking control—the idea of her having the power over him—sent a thrill straight to his core. He could feel his body responding to the thought of it.

Lady Kensington, you do have an exceptional grasp on power, I must admit. But do not be mistaken, I am not one to be easily controlled. If you wish to take charge, you’ll have to prove it to me. A challenge, perhaps?”

He pressed send before he could second-guess himself. It was a subtle invitation, a challenge wrapped in his usual calm, confident tone. Theodore could almost see her reaction as she read the words. Would she accept? Would she match him in this?

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on the phone, willing it to buzz with her response. The seconds stretched on, and just as he was beginning to wonder if she had already retired for the night, the screen lit up once again.

“We shall see, Lord Blackwood. But I warn you, you may not be ready for the kind of control I am capable of.”

The words sent a rush of excitement through him. Eleanor had never been one to shy away from a challenge, and now it seemed they were both caught in a web of their own making. The flirting, the teasing—it was all part of the dance, a game they were both eager to play. And Theodore, for all his composed exterior, was enjoying every moment of it.

He stood up from his chair, walking over to the window as he took in the view of the estate, the lights of the city flickering far in the distance. He couldn’t help but think of Eleanor, of the way she would look in the crimson lace, of how her body would feel beneath his hands once the time came. The idea of her taking control, of guiding him, intrigued him more than he cared to admit.

And yet, beneath the anticipation, there was a growing sense of something else—something deeper than just a physical attraction. It was the connection between them, the way they challenged each other, the way they made each other think, feel, and desire in ways they hadn’t before.

We’ll see, Eleanor,” he whispered to himself, a smirk curving his lips. “We’ll see who truly holds the power in the end.”

With that, he set his phone aside, his mind racing with thoughts of her, of what was to come. The night was far from over, and the game they had begun was only getting more thrilling with each exchange.

Eleanor Kensington had certainly piqued his interest, and as far as Theodore Blackwood was concerned, there was no turning back now.

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