A footman appeared with more coffee and Alexander cleared the temptation to ask Harriet what she thought of swiving on the breakfast table from his mind. She finished heaping her plate with food and turned to sit across from him.
“I thought you didn’t like kippers.”
Harriet looked at him as if he’d announced himself the next king. He gestured with his hand at her plate, which was half full of the fish. Then she looked back at him as if, somehow,he’dcaused their presence.
“I … I thought I might try them again. One never knows when one’s tastes have changed,” Harriet said with unconvincing conviction.
“True enough,” Alexander said, wickedly, wishing she might tell him more about her tastes. Harriet took the smallest possible share of a kipper and raised it to her mouth so slowly Alexander worried the fish would go bad before it got there. She wrinkled up her nose and forced herself to take a bite. He watched gleefully, not because it was nice to watch a woman eat kippers. They were perhaps the least arousing food on the planet. But because it was apparent that Harriet had been distracted enough to load her plate with them thismorning, and he had the foolish hope that he might be responsible for that in some way.
Harriet chewed for a moment with disgust and then swallowed with disgust and then took a bite of buttered toast with a face full of relief.
“Are you, by chance, available today?” he asked. Harriet, glad for the distraction from pretending to like kippers, shoved her plate aside.
“I have no plans at all, in fact.”
“Wonderful. Wear your worst day dress and most comfortable footwear and meet me in an hour.”
“For what?” she asked, in the most unladylike manner. It reminded him of the comfortability he felt as a child with his brother. The lack of care at what someone might think of your words.
“A surprise, I’m afraid.”
“For me?”
“Yes, I fear anyone else would be rather disappointed with our outing.”
Harriet looked suddenly as if she’d swallowed the entire plate of kippers in one go.
“Are you all right? We don’t have to go. If you have something—”
“I’ve never had a surprise,” Harriet said, quietly.
“You haven’t?”
“I suppose I’vebeensurprised by lots of things. Meeting you in a library. That men have hair on their chests. The size of your …”Glancing up at the footman present, Harriet swallowed and then continued: “ … town house.” She blushed deeply, no doubt realizing how liberal she’d been with her words. Why she’d spoken of chests in front of another man. A servant, yes, but a man nevertheless.
“It is rather large, isn’t it?” Alexander asked, trying his best to keep from grinning. “And you’ve been learning to handle it so well.”
Harriet nearly choked on the tea she’d sipped to wash down her toast and the lingering taste of fish. She flushed again, or perhaps it was a continuation of the first blush he’d seen that morning. Either way, her rosy cheeks brought back to mind the idea of clearing the table, excusing the footmen, and seeing if she’d like to repeat last night on a different surface.
She stood abruptly, obviously both anxious to flee the room and excited for the impending surprise.
“You don’t want to finish your kippers?” Alexander called after her, barely containing his mirth.
Harriet had never been to this part of London. So frequently did activities with Alexander underscore how small her life had been before him. She kept her nose almost pressed against the window, willing herself to soak up the enormity of the city, the moment. Pressuring herself to experience the excitement of novelty.
Instead, she saw close-ups of gray people and gray streets and gray buildings with dirty windows, everyone living virtually the same as what she’d experienced on the other side of the city.
“It’s not the best view,” Alexander said offhandedly. The comment made Harriet bristle in defense.
“It is if you haven’t seen it before,” Harriet replied, a little peevishly, even though she’d been thinking the same thing. She expected him to ignore her grumbling or perhaps concede her point. She did not expect him to join her at the window and look out with feigned wonder.
“Would you look there, Harriet! A town house! And farther down, there’s a horse! And another horse!” Harriet made a face at him, barely stopping herself from sticking out her tongue at his teasing.
“Nowthere’sa sight you don’t see in the ballrooms of Belgravia,” he said, somewhat more sincerely this time, as they passed a young couple wrapped in a passionate embrace, uncaring or unaware of the broad daylight and their ample audience.
Harriet was laughing now, embarrassed a bit by her disagreeable nature. He was surprising her, after all. “I apologize. It’s only … well, I was thinking about how men are so …”
“Attractive? Complex? Intriguing? Handsome?”
