“What kind of bet, Miss Angleton?” Drew kept his voice calm, but surely, she knew the question was not a request. “And who iswe?”
Miss Angleton swirled the wine in her glass. “The other governesses and companions at the agency. We’ve bet on whether or not you and Mrs. Dart are”—she grinned—“acquainted.Biblically. When you arrived today, I thought I’d be coming into a small windfall.” She sighed. “But if you’re here for answers, I suppose Laura is the winner.”
“And what does Laura say?” Drew asked.
“I don’t want to know.” Mrs. Dart stabbed her fork into something on her plate.
“Laura says that neither of you has the least idea of how to becomeacquainted. With anyone.”
Mrs. Dart snapped her fork to the table. “The next time you hear Laura or anyone discussing things they should not, you will report them to me.”
The young woman opened her mouth.
“Miss Angleton,” Drew said. Both women turned toward him. “Gossip is inevitable. But I hope you know well that it is inappropriate in most situations. Including this one. I hope you will comport yourself with more reticence when you are installed with a family.”
Miss Angleton blinked. “Of course I will.”
Drew waited for more. Looked to Mrs. Dart, who seemed also to be waiting. But Miss Angleton ate her food and sipped her wine and seemed, for all the world, happy as could be. Silent too, except for the occasional hum of delight after a sip or bite.
Mrs. Dart cast Drew a furtive look before returning to her dinner, and he watched her for several lengthy moments. She ate with precise little movements, tackling first one dish and then another. The meal was not served in courses but all at once, in an informal style that had often been used at Briarcliff with his family. She never looked at him, but he felt as if she were aware of him the entire time, her neck bent low over her plate, hiding her expression.
She wore a deep red tonight, a berry red, brighter and more cheerful than the wine glinting heavy in his glass.
“Why aren’t you wearing gray, Mrs. Dart?”
“Because I do not have to, Lord Andrew.” She looked up, her eyes wide as if she’d not meant to reply as she had.
Miss Angleton chuckled.
“I mean…” She swallowed hard. “I am not working here at Hawkscraig Castle, so I do not have to dress with attention to anything but my own desires.”
“And you desire red?”
She nodded.
“And pink?”
Another nod.
“La, but you two will put me to sleep.” Miss Angleton stood and snatched a bottle of wine from the sideboard behind Bernard, who scowled. “I’m going to the gardens. The gardener, Tom, is a closing in on sixty, but he’s still quite strapping. Wonder if I can catch a glimpse of him.”
“Put that down, miss,” Bernard demanded, grabbing for the bottle.
The companion lunged out of the way and shoved her elbow at his nose.
He ducked. She ran.
“Miss Angleton!” Mrs. Dart cried, jumping to her feet. “Return at once. You arenotto ogle Tom!”
But Miss Angleton was gone.
Bernard ran after her. “That’s not your wine!”
Then they were alone.
Mrs. Dart sank back into her chair and took a healthy swig from her glass.
Drew counted his breaths. A circus. He’d entered into a circus.
