Charlotte stared at him, shocked for the briefest of moments, while he stared her down with daring. But the tension lasted only a second or two because Charlotte could not stop herself from giggling.
“Touché.”
They fell into a companionable silence, each working on their own breakfasts with the utmost concentration. And though she cut her ham into the smallest, daintiest of slices, she sensed every part of her body. The way her gown brushed against herbare skin every time she moved. The tickle of the loose strands of flyaway hair at the back of her neck—oh, how much she’d like it to be his lips instead. The very presence of her legs and the secret space they held between them.
And him. He is here.
Deciding she couldn’t very well sit there in silence, allowing herself to be a painting for him—for he was surely looking at her—she huffed and put her knife and fork down.
“I must admit, Your Grace, I would have thought someone of your position would have better manners.”
When she looked at him, he was leaning back in his chair, his hands around the rim of the teacup that was far too dainty for his manly hands. He stared back at her and scoffed.
“I beg your pardon, my lady, but I have done something to offend you?”
It was Charlotte’s turn to scoff. “You mean other than the fact that you were spying on me yesterday?”
“Spying! I don’t see how one canspywhen the person is question is positively flaunting—”
“With all due respect, Your Grace,” she interrupted, refusing to allow him to accuse her of flaunting anything. “But the fact you made an attempt at an apology yesterday proves to me that you knew yourself to be in the wrong.”
The duke chuckled, eyeing her carefully. “I take your point on board, my lady, and thus I shall I offer you my apology again and hope that will be the end of the matter. I am dreadfully sorry that I happened upon you in the woods.
I should have left as soon as I spotted you, but as I am sure you will agree, the water looked tremendously inviting, both for myself and my poor, thirsty horse. Thus, once more, I apologize for the fact that you were in no fit state to receive a gentleman—or indeed, anyone else.”
Charlotte narrowed her eyes at him. That was no sort of apology, and she could see the teasing in his eyes. She ground her teeth. He had not openly insulted her, and so she felt she must respond in kind. But that didn’t mean she had to be civil toward him. She pointedly ignored him, instead taking tiny bites of her toast and chewing thoughtfully. She would show him who was ladylike!
After a long and awkward silence, during which he did not take his eyes from her once, he said, “Would it hurt you to at least try to be nice to me? It seems we will be living together for a few weeks, at least, and Iamthe duke.”
Charlotte glared at him, partly because she had no desire to be nice to him—her irritation still burned inside her, after all—and partly because, even more infuriatingly, the man was right. They were likely to spend a great deal of time together over the coming weeks. Charlotte already knew how close Chelsea and Stewart were. She had even met Stewart once or twice when she had been very young, though she doubted he would remember her.
Grudgingly, she sighed, putting aside her annoyance. For Chelsea’s sake, of course, not forhis. Not for the annoying, alluring man in front of her. She certainly would not afford him any kindness for his own sake alone.
“Very well,” she replied. “Though I cannot deny it will be a challenge.”
“I do not doubt it,” he countered. “Ladies of your ilk often struggle with nicety.”
“Of my—” Charlotte stopped herself from snapping as she saw the laughter in his eyes. He was teasing her, tricking her into proving herself unfriendly and incapable of being civil. She wouldn’t fall for it.
“You are down from London, then?” she asked.
“I am, as you can plainly see. Do you often go to London yourself?”
“I live primarily in London, yes.”
“Oh!” He blinked at her in surprised. “I can’t recall having seen you last season, and I attended every event there was.”
“I am sure you did,” she replied. “But I have not attended season for a year or two . I’m afraid I got rather tired of it all.”
“The pomposity?” he asked. “It does get a little much, doesn’t it?”
She raised her eyes at him, surprised that he had so easily agreed. It was rare to find someone who thought the same way as her. “Yes, that and the stuffiness.”
“And the gossip doesn’t help either,” he said with a groan. “It becomes tiresome after a while, especially when one is subject to the sheets.”
Charlotte raised her eyebrows at him. “Have you been mentioned in scandal sheets?” she asked, surprised at how easily he had admitted it.
“You mean to say that you haven’t read them?” His disbelief made his voice squeak.
