“Ah,” she said, returning her gaze to the toast. “So it is not a pleasure. It is strategy.”
“At present, most pleasures are strategy.”
“That sounds like a very sad way to live.”
Andrew unfolded his newspaper, though he had no real intention of reading it. “It has proved efficient.”
Frances made a soft sound that might have been amusement or disapproval. With her, it was often both.
They were seated across from one another in the breakfast room, with pale morning light falling across the table and turning the silver coffeepot into a dazzling nuisance. The baby had slept unusually well, according to the nurse, and the whole house seemed lighter for it. Even the footmen moved with less caution.
Frances wore a morning gown of soft blue muslin, simple enough for breakfast, but made elegant by the line of her neck and the way her hair had been pinned loosely at the back of her head. A single curl had escaped near her cheek.
Andrew noticed it. Then wished he had not.
Frances spread marmalade over her toast with excessive attention. “Very well. We shall attend.”
He glanced at her. “That was easier than expected.”
She paused only for a moment. “I don’t see why it wouldn’t be. After all, Iamcapable of reason.”
“I had begun to suspect as much.”
She looked at him over the rim of her teacup. “How generous.”
“I try.”
“No, you do not.”
Despite himself, his mouth curved.
Frances set down her cup. “But if we attend, we must do so properly.”
“Meaning?” His amusement pierced through his composure.
“Meaning we must look like a united couple.”
Andrew stilled only slightly. “We are married.”
“Yes, that is the legal portion. I refer to the theatrical one.”
“Theatrical?” He lifted an inquisitive eyebrow.
“Society does not care what is true. Surely you have learned that by now. It cares what is visible. If we go to this house party, we cannot appear like two strangers who happen to share a carriage and a scandal.”
Andrew leaned back. “That should not be difficult.”
Frances tilted her head. “Should it not?”
“No.”
“You may find it challenging.”
“Why?”
“Because you often act like a stranger.”
He lowered the newspaper fully. “I live in the same house as you.”
