Chapter Eighteen
TERESA, THIS IS not what you think.” Richard’s hands dropped from Doña Isabella’s shoulders as if they were scorched.
Teresa did not spare him more than a blank stare. “Mother, may I speak to you in the drawing room, please?”
She turned and left the room, not pausing or even turning around to see if her mother was following her.
Firmly closing the door to the drawing room after her mother strode in as if the room were her own, Teresa turned to face Doña Isabella. “Mother, you may not play your games with Richard.”
Teresa did not try to mask her feelings. She could barely believe how angry she was. Luckily, her anger was lending her bravado—and she was going to use every ounce of it to tell her mother exactly how she felt.
“Games? What games are you speaking of, quer
