He nodded with something like approval.
“What other hidden interests do you have?” Elizabeth asked. “Aside from boxing?”
Talbot most likely knew she was running away from the subject, but he let her.
“I like to hunt. I like racing my thoroughbreds. I like to read.”
“What kinds of books do you read?”
“First, you tell me what the last book you’ve read was?”
“Depends who’s asking. If it’s Aunt Isolde, thenA Father’s Legacy to His Daughter.”
Talbot grinned. “And if it’s me asking?”
“ThenOakwood Hall,” Elizabeth whispered near his ear, and his hand on her waist twitched.
She then reluctantly added, “Evelina.”
“NotCamillaorCecilia?” he teased, and his amused smile told her he could guess why she liked Evelina, who was an unacknowledged daughter like herself.
Elizabeth looked away from his knowing gaze.
“So you like novels?” he asked after a while.
Elizabeth nodded eagerly.
“Then Imustsend you some of my favourite books!”
“Oh, please do!”
They were both smiling at each other before Talbot said, “That way, you shall have the opportunity to read some good books for once.”
She really wanted to pinch him again.
Chapter 15
"Sophie has never looked worse in all the time that I’ve known her."
Elizabeth was shocked by the terribly disloyal thought that went through her head.
Tonight, her brother’s wife was wearing a splendid puce gown, with the right hairstyle and jewels accompanying it. Her cream-coloured, elbow-length kid gloves elevated her looks above even those of their hostess, Lady Amelia’s mother, and yet her complexion was sallow, her features tense.
Perhaps something unpleasant is happening in her private life.
A cold, oily fear took hold of Lizzie’s heart.
“Is aught amiss?” she asked Sophie in a measured, quiet voice, mindful of curious ears surrounding them.
They had arrived at the ball an hour ago and had just finished making their rounds about the room, meeting and greeting everyone assembled in the Fairchilds’ opulent home. It was clear that their hosts had spared no expense. Elizabeth felt a pangof compassion for poor Amelia, who probably detested every moment of this grand spectacle.
“I’m… I’m not sure,” Sophie fanned herself between deep breaths.
“There is not a breath of fresh air in here; that might be what is affecting you. What do you think of getting a glass of lemonade and then going out to the terrace?”
“I fear you might be right, Lizzie. I apologise for not being better company tonight,” Sophie said ruefully, and Lizzie knew that in her case it wasn’t just empty politeness.
The Duchess truly cared whether Elizabeth enjoyed herself at these events.
