"Make me understand why it is difficult for you."

She swallowed. He saw the apprehension in her eyes.

"Why? Afraid that your incompetence will be proven?"

Her reaction was as he expected. She scoffed and West realized how easy she could be read. She was not difficult at all. And he surmised that it would not be long before he could master Sasha.

"You wish me to prove to you how great of a task you are expecting me to fulfill in four fortnights?" she asked with a knowing smile.

"Yes."

She slowly nodded. "Very well, prepare to be surprised."

With no warning, she stood and started walking away.

"Where are you going?"

"I do not intend to freeze to death in your garden," she said over her shoulder. "Unless you wish for my corpse to be discovered in two months, you would allow me to stay inside where it is warm."

West stood with a huff and followed her inside.

"Would you be a dear, Darren, and serve us tea in the drawing room?" asked Sasha to the valet who appeared to have already been waiting for them inside.

The man immediately jumped to his feet to do her bidding.

West tailed Sasha into the drawing room. "Whatever you did to him, you ought to share with me."

Hearing her chuckle was surprisingly satisfying. Was this how Darren felt?

How her other flowers felt?

Good Lord, she had another flower. What could she be telling this other man?

She sat in the settee while they waited for Darren. He watched her work on the tie of her red cloak. Then she stopped with a frown. "Do I hear a dog barking nearby?"

"Seven," he replied, taking the chair opposite the settee.

"What?"

"The dog's name is Seven."

"And where is this dog?"

"Somewhere."

"Somewhere where?"

"Leashed somewhere."

Her eyes widened with horror and she jumped to her feet. "And whose dog is this?"

West blinked in surprise. "Mine."

She gasped, horrified. "You leash your dog?"

West sighed. "He is not accustomed to strangers."

"Then why did you have to bring him here?"

"He can be quite uncontrollable."

"Why?"

"Because I am not around."

"Then you take him everywhere?"

"No. There are only two people who can control him. Both of whom are in this villa."

Sasha sighed, placing her hand on her forehead. "Release him at once."

It was his turn to look at her with incredulity. "Do you wish to be dead?"

Seven barked once again.

"Where is he?" she demanded.

"In my chamber—where in the bloody hell are you going!" he demanded when she suddenly whirled around and stalked to the door.

He jumped to his feet and almost ran up the stairs to follow her. How she ever managed to walk that far was out of his comprehension. "Sasha, stop at once! Seven is not one you should trifle with!"

She was not listening as she followed the sound of the barking. When she paused and checked the first door to the right of the corridor, West rushed on to her side. "Do not make me drag you back downstairs, Sasha. I am warning you."

She turned to face him, her face hard and determined. "You leashed a dog."

"And it is not a crime!"

Her jaw tightened. There was something in her face that told him there was more to this than just him putting a leash on his dog.

She circled around him and proceeded to the next door.

West jumped as she got the right door, but he was not fast enough. Sasha flung the door open and Seven's bark turned into a growl.

He nearly crashed against her in the doorway where she stood frozen.

The dog was growling at her from the center of the room, his leash tied to the bedpost.

"Well, hello there, my friend," Sasha greeted, making a move toward Seven.

West grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

"Let go of me," she ordered sternly.

"Bloody hell, Sasha, he is dangerous."

She looked at him over her shoulder. "He is a spaniel, sir, and you act as though he could topple you over."

"What I am saying, woman, is that he is a dog and he bloody bites!"

"He–" she pointed at the black dog in the middle of the room, "is a dog! Of course, he bites!"

The tiny dog growled even more, baring its teeth at Sasha. "And he obviously does not like you."

"Because his master is showing him how to behave around me," she said, pushing him through the doorway. "Give me a moment."

Before West could stop her, the door was slammed shut before him. He heard the lock turn. "Darren! Come up this bloody instant!" he roared, trying the door. Seven was growling even more now. "Bloody hell, Sasha, do not go near the dog! Darren!"

He could still hear Seven growling and he froze as he heard Sasha's footsteps walking inside the bedchamber. "Now, now, you little devil. Why do you look so afraid?"

"He is not afraid, Sasha! He is bloody angry!" West shouted at the door. When he heard nothing but Seven's incessant barks and growling, he shouted, "Darren!"

"Your Grace!" the breathless valet said at the top of the stairs.

"Get the keys!"

"The keys, Your Grace?"

"The bloody keys, Darren! Now!" He rattled the door.

Darren immediately jumped to his feet when he realized which door he was referring to and what was inside it.

"Sasha, I am utterly serious! Stop whatever nonsense you are doing—" he stopped to listen, noting that it had gone quiet inside, save for Sasha's soothing murmurs.

He could hear Darren coming back up the stairs and soon came back beside him with a set of keys.

"Do not come inside!" Sasha's voice ordered as the valet worked with the keys. Darren froze and looked at West. "Your Grace?"

"Open the door, Darren," he coldly ordered. Darren moved and searched for the right key.

"Dare not open that door, Darren!" Sasha said. Darren stopped and looked at West helplessly. Seven let out another bark. "Your Grace?"

They heard a crash from inside the chamber.

"Open the bloody door, Darren," he growled.

With shaking hands, Darren resumed his search, bent low on the door handle.

"You naughty thing!" he heard Sasha cry out.

"Sasha, if you get one bloody bite, I am not taking you to a doctor!" he warned.

It had gone quiet inside once again. Darren was still bent over the keys in panic.

"Give me that," he gritted out, snatching the set of keys from the valet.

Starting over with one key, he worked with ease, his heart hammering faster.

"Surely she will be alright, Your Grace," Darren said beside him, voice sounding doubtful. "Seven is but a spaniel. I am certain Lady Sasha can—"

He snapped his head to the right to glare at the valet.

Darren moistened his lips. "Best be quick, Your Grace."

They heard Seven whimpering from inside. West worked the fourth key.

"Seven is whimpering, Your Grace."

"I can bloody hear that, Darren. Shut your bloody mouth for once, please."

"Now, now, do not be too cross..." he heard Sasha say.

"I am warning you, Sasha. Do not go near the bloody dog," he growled as he worked with the sixth key. "How many bloody keys do we keep in this household!" he hissed at Darren.

"Quite a few, Your Grace."

"Bloody tarnation—" he began when finally, the eighth key worked.

Great relief washed over him, but just as he was about to turn the handle, the door burst open and Sasha reappeared. His gaze searched her from head to foot. She seemed unharmed.

A triumphant look was pasted on her face. "I told you to give me a moment," she said, tapping the side of her cloak. Seven, his little black spaniel wormed itself through the open doorway and sat beside Sasha's feet, looking up at her with eyes glimmering, tongue out, breathing heavily.

West and Darren shared a look before they faced Sasha again.

"How did you—" Darren began, poking his head into the doorway to see the mess inside.

"I freed him from his leash," she said, walking away. Again, West and Darren shared a look when Seven followed her. "I believe he is quite grateful. He must be hungry. Are you hungry, my friend?" She stopped at the top of the staircase to bend down and scratch Seven's head. The dog whimpered with pleasure at her touch. She threw West and Darren a look of disdain. "Give Seven his food, gentlemen." And then she added, "And pardon me for the mess inside the chamber. I tripped when he tried to bite my dress earlier."

She walked down the stairs with Seven right beside her, tails wagging with pleasure.

"Your Grace," said Darren, "this is a miracle."

West's jaw tightened. He stalked after Sasha.

"Did I hear you correctly? He tried to bite you?"

"My dress! He tried to bite my dress!" Seven turned and growled up at West and his eyes widened. "And you are scaring him again. Come here, Seven," said Sasha, scooping the dog from the step of the stairs. She looked up at West. "His food, sir. He is quite hungry."

Darren was stopped beside West, still gaping, both of them following Sasha and Seven down the stairs with their gaze.

"You heard the woman. Get the dog's food, Darren," West ordered.

The bloody woman did not just win his valet's heart. She also coveted his dog!

*****

Three days later, West was inside his carriage in search of Sasha.

Her maid had reluctantly informed him—with a scathing tone—that her mistress had gone out for a walk.

Where?

She could not tell. Sasha often wandered around the town center whenever she was bored.

Bored? She had the time to be bored now, did she?

They had taken three trips around all passable roads in the town center and by their forth, West was fuming. Where could she be spending her time at this time? It was nearly night time. If he could trust her maid's information, she had been gone for three hours!

Tapping the roof of his carriage, he poked his head out of the window to order the driver to make another trip back to her villa.

The driver had to make another trip around the park before they could turn into the road that would lead them to their next destination.

And it was then that he saw her.

Tapping the roof once again, West gave his order to go slower to the side of the road, beside the woman wearing the gray dress.

He did not have to check if he was right for he was certain it was her. She was not out as a Belle today, he noted as the carriage approached. He signaled the driver to move slower.

"Where the bloody hell have you been?" he demanded at her through the window.

She jumped in surprise, turning to her side to look up at West.

Her expression immediately changed to confusion. She looked about before calmly saying, "This is not your villa. You cannot approach me outside. Need I remind you of your rules, sir?"

She continued to walk. The carriage dutifully followed.

"You have not come to the villa when I requested you to," he gritted out. "How else do you expect me to approach you?"

"I will come by on the morrow."

"Please do forgive me, my lady, if I am starting to be a little distrustful."

She rolled her eyes. "Can I not have my moment of peace for one day, please?"

"One day? You have been absent for three days, Sasha." His eyes narrowed into slits. "What have you been doing in these past three days?"

She let out an incredulous huff. Her head snapped to fix him a scowl. "The first day, I saw my other flower. The second day, I saw a friend. Third, I spent with myself. I was actually enjoying the last day until you rolled over."

"You did not mention anything about going to Belcourt."

"Well, I do intend to do that."

"When?"

"When I can!"

His jaw tightened. He had enough. He knocked for his driver to stop the carriage and as it did, he opened the door. "Get inside," he ordered.

Sasha continued walking.

Again, West ordered for the carriage to move.

"Get inside, Sasha."

"Oh, I would hate to besmirch your lovely carriage. It would forever stench should I grace it with my presence."

"Your sarcasm is unappreciated, Sasha. Get inside. Now."

She sighed. "I cannot blame you for thinking you can order everyone around. Your station provides you the privilege. But I am not one of your subjects, sir."

"Then, please, my lady, would you be so kind as to climb up the carriage and grace it with your magnificent presence?" West stretched his lips as wide he could, all the while his eyes dryly stared at her when she turned her head to glare at him.

She faced the carriage which had immediately stopped when she did. She looked around again. Certain that no one was about, she sighed and climbed inside the carriage. West smiled with contentment, watching her get settled across the from with a huff. "I should tell you that I am doing my best, sir," she began the moment West closed the carriage door.

"Well, it is not enough for me." He tapped the roof and ordered, "Belcourt."

Sasha's eyes widened. "You cannot be serious!"

West smiled at her. "Oh, but I am. We are going now."

"I am not dressed—"

"You look fine enough, Sasha," he wryly interjected.

"But—"

"I would rather you do not waste your time outside of Belcourt, Sasha. If you refuse to go there, then I shall make certain that you go there now."

"You must realize that while Belles have their own place in Belcourt, it is also uncommon for us to stay there. Belcourt will start to question—"

"Thus I am coming with you. I demand that you take me to Belcourt and you did. Why would they ever question that? I am welcome there, am I not?"

She blinked. "Well, not everywhere."

He scoffed, leaning back against his seat. "If you say so."

She slowly shook her head. "You do not know what you are expecting in Belcourt, sir."

His lips twitched. She was clearly distressed. Something was keeping her away from Belcourt, he thought. "I will be the judge of that, Sasha."

Her shoulders dropped with a long sigh. This time, when she shook her head, her lips curled into a knowing smile. "Very well, I would be happy to see how you find Belcourt." She leaned back into her seat. It was only then that West realized she was holding a book. She opened it and he thought he heard her murmur, "Ignorant fool."

*****

Their journey was excruciatingly slow.

West had to fight the impulse to knock on the carriage roof and bark an order to the driver to circle around and go back home, all because he did not want to see the smirk on Sasha's face if he did that.

She had been doing nothing but read her book, the sway or jolts of the carriage never deterring her.

"What is it, sir?" she asked, breaking the silence.

"What is what??" West wryly asked, looking at her impassive face, her eyes downward.

She turned a page. "You are looking at me."

"Because you are sitting right across my vision."

She moved to the left and his eyes instinctively followed. He had a good look at the book she was reading and his brows rose in surprise. "You are reading Kant."

He watched her brows fuse together. "And?"

"He is a philosopher."

"I can very well see as I am reading it."

"Critique of Pure Reason is a very challenging read."

"For a prepared mind, it can be quite interesting," she murmured through her lips.

West was suddenly interested. "And how to do you find his views?"

Sasha snapped the book close and stared at him. "I would very much willing to tell you if you allow me to finish three chapters at the very least."

West shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. "You are irked."

She blinked and shook her head in disbelief. "I have you know, sir, that I had the rest of my day planned." She shook the book in her hand. "I have already imagined myself reading this book in my bed with no distractions."

"Then you do admit that I distract you?"

Her eyes widened. "Very much so, yes!"

Her admission stupefied him.

She said it so nonchalantly, so innocently.

She huffed in frustration, turning her head to look out the window. "My maids must be going crazy. I ought to have someone inform them where I am the moment we reach Belcourt."

But West was barely listening as he watched her. Her gray dress could not be compared with the elegance of his carriage, yet in his eyes, she seemed to have been crafted just to be in it. Her neck bared to him, her hand firm on her new book. A woman of beauty and taste.

"Why?" he asked.

Her head snapped toward him. "Well, because I told them I shall return in a few hours. My maid would go berserk if I am not in the villa by—"

"I was not asking about your household staff, Sasha." His gaze captured hers and held it. He watched the confusion form in her eyes. "I was asking why I distract you."

She was about to open her mouth to answer, but she must have realized the meaning in his gaze. Her eyes darkened as they stared at each other, the small space between them a barrier of something they were both fighting against.

The game was on.

He could easily reach out, wrap his hand around her arm, and pull her toward him. The carriage was large enough to mount her on his lap. His hands would have enough room to explore. It would take no amount of persuasion for he would be a willing man.

The image of her bow-shaped lips slightly open, gasping for air above him, her neck bare to him, her shoulders glistening with sweat, made him feel like a bloody crazed man in chains.

Her gaze made him wonder. What could she be thinking? What was running around in that mind of hers?

When he was starting to believe Sasha was easy to read, she was yet proving to him again that there was more he had to uncover.

And he was not willing to.

She was a distraction, yes, but she was also his only chance of finding his sister.

She may currently be proving she was incompetent, but he could not blame her. She was not used to this kind of business. The one she was used to was nothing similar to what he was paying her to do.

A small smile tugged at one corner of her lips. West would have forgotten his question if she did not answer by saying, "You do distract me in many ways, sir." Her bluish-grey eyes were telling him she had more to say and he craved for them. Yet she was teasing him, making him wonder... making him impatient.

She was the first to look away, gazing out of the window.

"We are here," she announced.

The carriage stopped and two women in green cloaks came into view of the window.

Sasha had to only show her face and the two women nodded, running back to the giant gates.

Whatever West had been feeling moments ago was replaced by something else as Belcourt finally opened its gates.