‘Do you?’
‘What?’
‘Do you like soup?’
‘Ah, not especially.’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘How can you not?’
‘It is very wet.’ He was being even more foolish, but the stiffness in her back was loosening and he would carry on being idiotic if that’s what it took for her to relax.
Biting her lip, seemingly holding in a laugh, she said, ‘While true, surely you are aware of each soup having a different flavour. You cannot dislike all of it. That is like saying you do not like food.’
‘It is not at all like saying that. It is the consistency I do not care for. Especially when bits of vegetable or meat surprise you in the liquid.’ He shuddered, only half of the gesture for her amusement; he truly did dislike discovering lumps in soup.
Her laugh was bright and luminous and made his heart swell with pride because he had caused such a joyous sound. Her lips parted, about to say something, but Emily announced the start of dinner and whatever it was, was lost. Holding out his arm, he waited for her to place her fingers on his sleeve. When she did, the touch featherlight, he momentarily lost the ability to function. Her hand was gloved. He was wearing a shirt and a jacket. Her touch was barely there, and yet he could feel it throughout his body.
‘Edward,’ she murmured softly.
He jerked. ‘I am sorry; my mind wandered. Shall we?’
Nodding, she allowed him to guide her into the room. She’d been seated towards the bottom of the table, near Emily, with him to her right and Alexander on her other side. Edward made the introduction mechanically, drawing on years of experience at Society dinners to carry out the movements and words he’d made thousands of times. He did not like the gleam that appeared in Alexander’s eyes or the soft smile on Kate’s lips as she responded to whatever the other man had said. Edward studied the knives and forks laid out in front of him with an intensity the arrangement did not warrant but which kept his focus away from Kate and the way her fingers fluttered against the stem of her wine glass.
The meal started. Kate turned to him because he’d told her that she should speak to the man on her right and she had been listening. The problem was, he did not appear to have any words. He’d meant what he’d said to Christopher; he was not going to act on his attraction. He could not in all good conscience pursue a relationship with a woman who depended on his family for everything. His decision not to be attracted to their house guest did not seem to have penetrated his brain, however. Thecandlelight made the red in her hair shimmer like flickers of a flame; he wanted to reach out, to be burned by the touch of it.
From the dregs of his mind, he summoned up words. ‘The dress Emily found for you is… very fetching.’ Beautiful, mesmerising, delectable were all better adjectives but would reveal too much of his real thoughts.
She glanced down at it and smiled widely. ‘Emily is very talented. This used to be hers, but she was able to adjust it to fit me with such ease. You should have seen how fast her fingers moved; it was mesmerising. She has offered to teach me the way of it, but I fear I am too clumsy.’ She held up her fingers as if to show him.
‘I cannot do it,’ he blurted out, trying to stay on track.
‘Do what?’
‘Sew.’
She took a small sip of her wine. ‘I am surprised to learn you have tried to do so.’
‘You think me incapable?’ It was good she had a low opinion of him because… his mind scrambled for a reason. Ah yes, it was good, because if she tried to seduce him, he would be lost. If she thought him a bumbling fool, then there was less danger of this all going to hell.
‘I think a man brought up in a ducal household would have little recourse for such a skill,’ she replied.
‘My aunt, the woman who raised us, did not treat us like sons of a duke. She was very strict and displeasing her brought terrible consequences down on us. If I tore something, I tried to mend it.’ He smoothed a hand over the tablecloth. Time with his aunt was not something he liked to talk about and especially not at an event like this. ‘I did not do well.’ The aftermath had been very unpleasant indeed.
She nodded thoughtfully. ‘I cannot say I have mastered the art either. It seems to require a lot of patience and I am afraid I do not have that in abundance.’
‘What do you like to do?’ he asked, grateful to move the topic of conversation away from anything that reminded him of Miss Dunn.
She pushed a few crumbs around. ‘I have never really thought about it before. I like to eat cake.’ Her smile was impish and he felt his answering one in the pit of his stomach. ‘I like to read when I have the time.’
‘Then you must avail yourself of Tobias’ library.’
She tapped the tablecloth. ‘Jane seems to think the place is sacred and lesser mortals are not allowed to enter. I would not want to upset the duke when he has been so kind towards me.’
‘Tobias is very protective of the space, but I am sure he will not mind a member of the household entering. I will check with him if you prefer.’
‘Please do.’ She nodded vigorously. ‘I should hate to trespass on his privacy.’
They both glanced to the head of the table where Tobias was listening to someone speaking, his dark eyes hooded, his lips unsmiling. Now and then, Edward sensed his older brother was a kinder man than his stern exterior suggested, but it was hard to believe that looking at him now. ‘Very well, I shall do so later and send word to you.’
