“But I wasn’t,” she replied, trying not to let his anxiety unsettle her. “And I have no intention of dwelling on what might have been.”
His brow furrowed more deeply, but after a pause, he gave a reluctant nod. “Very well. I shall concede—for now.”
“Thank you,” she said, offering him a grateful look.
He extended his arm towards her. “May I escort you to supper?”
As she slid her hand into the crook of his arm, a subtle spark passed between them—a jolt of awareness that made her pulse quicken. She wondered, as she had so many times before, if he felt it, too. But his expression remained as inscrutable as ever.
Dominic led her into the dining room, guiding her to her place at the far end of the long, polished table. He released her arm and pulled out her chair. She sat, unfolding her white linen napkin with deliberate ease, trying not to show how flustered his nearness had left her.
He crossed the room to take his customary place at the opposite end. The footmen moved efficiently, placing steaming bowls of soup before them.
Dorothea lifted her spoon, then called across the table in a voice meant to carry, “How was the visit to the hospital with Tristan?”
“It went well,” Dominic replied in kind. “Tabitha seems to have made a full recovery. She should be released tomorrow. She mentioned she’s eager to begin work immediately. I hope that won’t be a problem.”
“Not at all,” Dorothea said. “I’ll be glad for the assistance. Mrs. Cameron has been assigning different maids each day, and while I appreciate the effort, it will be a relief to have someone consistent.”
Dominic inclined his head slightly. “It was generous of you to take her on. Not many would have shown such kindness.”
“I do believe Tabitha and I will get along well. And I am rather fond of Tristan.”
“As am I,” Dominic said, a flicker of warmth in his voice. “I’ve been thinking about his future. Perhaps it’s time to hire a proper tutor or even send him to boarding school.”
Dorothea nodded in approval. “That would be a remarkable opportunity for him. With education, he might truly make something of himself.”
Without warning, Dominic stood and took his wine glass in hand. “I can barely hear you over the crackle of the fire,” he said as he walked the length of the table. “Forgive me, but I’d prefer to sit nearer.”
A footman hurried to arrange a new place setting beside her, and Dominic took the seat to her right.
Dorothea arched an amused brow. “Do you always cause such a stir when you dine?”
His lips twitched. “I do. Especially when I know what I want.”
She leaned in slightly. “Well, I, for one, enjoy having you closer. I no longer have to shout my thoughts across the table.”
Dominic’s smile faded into something more contemplative. He set his glass down and looked at her with a seriousness that prickled her curiosity. “May I ask you a question?”
“You may.”
“Do you have a dowry?”
The question caught her off guard. “Yes. Ten thousand pounds. It may not be a fortune, but it’s respectable enough.”
“A very tidy sum.”
“It’s yours now,” she said simply. “If you like, I can contact my father’s solicitor—Mr. Poole—for any documents you may need.”
“I’m afraid Mr. Poole passed away.”
“That is unfortunate. He was always kind to me.”
Dominic shifted, his fingers tapping once on the table before stilling. “Do you know if your father left a will?”
She stared at him, puzzled. “Of course he did. Why would you ask such a thing?”
“How can you be sure?”
