His mouth twisted. “You would not clamor for the attention of such a gentleman?”
“First of all, Hugh, I do not, nor will I ever clamor after a man. Secondly, I would rather remain a spinster before that comes to pass.”
Hugh shook his head. “I was only teasing, lass. And for the purpose of full-disclosure, there will be non-tedious gentlemen too.”
“I’m not so sure. Will you be there?”
He scowled at her.
She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “I want a husband who is captivating, mysterious andbigandstrongand—”
“I get it,” Hugh bit out. “No need to imprint the image to my brain.”
Honoria doubted he got anything but decided against arguing the point. He was cranky enough.
“Men aren’t mysterious,” Hugh muttered biting into a sausage. “We are simple creatures.”
Honoria thought of Lash, the definition of mysterious. Big. Strong. Certainly not tedious. Nay, he was thrilling. Dangerous. The stuff dreams were made of, or rather, the stuffherfantasies were weaved from.
“I would hope you are wrong, Hugh,” Honoria murmured. “How else will you land a wife if there’s not even a dash of intrigue about you?”
“I’m intriguing,” he disagreed.
Honoria sipped her tea. “Of course you are. That is why you sent word to Adair about our recent guest. Intriguing gentleman always rat out their sisters.”
Hugh’s cheeks flushed. “You did not tell me he’s a gypsy.”
“Would it have made a difference?”
Hugh opened his mouth, but it was Lash who answered. “Good morning.”
Honoria jerked in surprise.
“Ah, speaking of the devil,” Hugh muttered.
Honoria leaped to her feet when Lash entered the dining room fully clad and more mouth-watering than any spread laid out. “What are you doing out of bed? Is something wrong? Are you unwell?” Her eyes flicked between the two men before they narrowed on her brother. “Hugh, help the man!”
“I can manage,” Lash argued. “I’m not an invalid.”
“See, lass?” Hugh’s eyes were wide and innocent. “He can manage. And I invited him to join us for meals if he so desired.”
“Well,yourpresence certainly makes much more sense now.”
Hugh flashed Honoria a dark glance. She ignored him, turning her attention to Lash. “Are you sure you are feeling well? Yesterday—”
“Was yesterday, today we try again.”
She shot him an exasperated look. “Sit down,” she motioned to a chair, “I shall bring you breakfast. Hugh will pour you a cup of tea. Or do you prefer coffee?”
“Tea is fine.”
Hugh’s eyes narrowed on Honoria. “Shall I dab his brows while I’m at it as well?”
“Don’t be silly, his fever has long since broken. We shall be careful not to tax his strength today,” Honoria said, filling Lash’s plate with bread, meats, and eggs.
“Dab at my brows?” Lash queried after she placed the heaped plate before him.
“Do not ask,” Hugh muttered, begrudgingly pouring tea into a cup.
