‘The same as you I expect,’ the duke said. ‘Roast beef and sprouts.’
‘Louisa, you are to tell Cook that economies must be made,’ her grandfather said with a dour look. ‘When the house is full to overflowing, mutton is good enough for the main table. It will remind you that the luxuries of a London Season are not something to be enjoyed year-round.’
‘And do you mean to economise, as well?’ the duke asked, his expression innocent.
‘I am the master of the house. Since I do not galivant about England half the year, it is not unreasonable for me to enjoy a bit of beef at dinner.’
‘I will see to the menus in the future,’ Louisa said, making a mental note to order more beef and no mutton.
‘See that you do,’ Grandfather replied as the fish was brought in. ‘My wishes are not complicated, but I assume you will bungle it somehow, as you always do.’
She could feel tension building in her neck and jaw. It would likely be a megrim by bedtime. She reached for the wine again.
He cleared his throat.
Her hand hesitated again. And again, she urged it forward, took the glass and drank.
He gave a grunt of dissatisfaction, then turned his attention to Percy. ‘And you, Percival. What have you ever been but a drain on my purse?’
Percy cocked his head to the side like a dog hearing a noise in the distance. Then he said, to no one in particular, ‘It is so goodto be home.’ He looked at the duke. ‘You must try the sauce for the cold asparagus. It is a mayonnaise. Rarely seen outside the best houses.’
Grandfather growled again as Percy spooned a large dollop of the stuff on the duke’s vegetables before taking an even larger helping for himself.
Her own plate was bare of condiments and the roll she’d been eating was unbuttered. When had he trained her to believe that ordinary comforts were gluttony?
Before she could reach for the dish, the duke had passed the butter to her and followed it with the mayonnaise.
She gave him a brief smile and began to dress her food.
‘Do not encourage her,’ her grandfather barked. ‘She is already too plump. It is why she has been unable to catch a husband. If she is to be a spinster, she should be lean and bony, and generally inhospitable to men.’ Then, he laughed in a rude and knowing way.
She was blushing again. She could feel the heat in her face. She should be used to that, by now. She was always flushed when the duke was about. There was a kind of desperate happiness in that.
But she had forgotten what it was like to be with Grandfather for more than a few minutes. The interviews in the bedroom were bad. For those, he railed about whatever was on his mind at that moment. On the rare occasions he came downstairs, he took his time to find the thing that would hurt her most. Then, he probed at it, digging deeper and deeper until she fled the table.
Thomas had said he had a plan and that she must trust him. The pain of this meal was easier to bear knowing the future would possibly be free of it. Perhaps, if they could escape to the garden for a moment after the meal, he might even soothe the hurt with another kiss.
Her grandfather’s mouth opened and she braced for the poison he was about to spew at her, thinking of kisses in the garden.
Yet before he could say anything else, the duke interrupted. ‘You can’t speak to her like that.’
Grandfather had what books called a basilisk stare. It certainly worked on her, for she stayed still, as if she’d been turned to stone. Her fork hovered in the air a few inches from her mouth as she waited to see what would happen next.
He stared at the duke. ‘You dare to correct me, in my own house?’
Thomas was in no way affected, staring back with a similar, unblinking gaze. ‘I would correct anyone, anywhere, should they be as wrong as you are now. In the first case, Louisa has had no trouble attracting a husband. I am here, as proof of that.’
‘I have refused you,’ Grandfather reminded him.
‘But she has not. That what she prefers does not align with your tastes makes no difference to the facts. She went to London and found a husband. As for your suggestion that she is unable to follow simple instructions? I find her to be a person of superior intellect…’
‘Superior intellect?’ Her grandfather let out a sharp bark of laughter. ‘She is a woman.’
‘Which does not keep her from being the most well-read and intelligent person I know,’ the duke replied coolly. ‘She has more sense than is needed to run Percy’s household. If there is a problem here, it must lie with the master of the house.’
She stared at her grandfather whose face had gone from white to florid. He glared at the duke, trembling faintly like a pot about to boil over, his mouth working apoplectically. His hand jerked, cutting the pheasant on his plate with a slash of his knife that sent sauce splashing onto the tablecloth.
‘As for the suggestion that she is plump?’ The duke was smiling at him, completely unperturbed. ‘There is nothing unusual about her size, nor would it matter to me if there were.’
