“I imagine Lady Olivia might have something to say about that.”
Ahead of them, Olivia turned her head slightly and called over her shoulder, “Au contraire. I have no objections to daily lemon ice indulgence.”
“Then it is settled,” Lord Wilton said, his voice touched with mock formality.
Emboldened by the ease between them, Theodosia glanced at him again. “Would you care to join us tomorrow?”
She held her breath, expecting him to politely refuse. But to her astonishment, he replied without hesitation, “I would enjoy that.”
“You would?” Olivia asked.
Lord Wilton glanced between the two women, his tone dry but not unkind. “Even a marquess is allowed to enjoy lemon ice, is he not?”
“I suppose I shall allow you to join us,” Olivia said. “But no brooding allowed.”
“I do not brood,” he stated with a note of injured dignity.
Theodosia was unable to resist the opportunity to tease him. “You most definitely brood, my lord.”
He came to a halt just outside the dining room door and turned to regard her with a mixture of mild offense and amusement. “I assure you, I am a man of profound thought, not brooding.”
“That is precisely what a brooding man would say,” Theodosia quipped.
With a muttered sound that may have been a laugh—or perhaps a grumble—he stepped aside and gestured towards the open doorway. “After you, Miss Theodosia.”
Inclining her head in thanks, she stepped into the dining room and she moved to take her seat beside Olivia. Lord Wilton took his place at the head of the table, his posture stiff.
Moments later, a footman entered and set bowls of soup before each of them. The clink of silverware began as they ate, the room falling into a companionable, if slightly awkward, silence.
Lady Wilton was the first to speak, setting down her spoon with a soft tap against porcelain. “How was the circulating library today?”
“It was wonderful,” Olivia said with a bright smile. “I found two novels I’ve been wanting for weeks.”
Theodosia nodded in agreement. “I must concur. I have never seen so many books in one place before. It felt like discovering a hidden treasure trove.”
“It is a magical place,” Lady Wilton agreed. “Which is why I am pleased to be among its patrons. As is Richard.”
Theodosia turned her gaze to Lord Wilton. “You are?”
He straightened slightly, as if preparing for a challenge. “Indeed. I do not know why that seems so unexpected. I have no objections to women reading. Quite the opposite, I encourage it.”
“But this afternoon…” she began, remembering his comment about frivolous reading material.
He cut in smoothly, setting down his spoon. “Had nothing to do with you reading, and everything to do with what you were reading. Surely, there are more enlightening choices than scandalous French romances.”
Theodosia opened her mouth to protest, but before she could respond, Lady Wilton added with a pointed nod, “I quiteagree with Richard. Those books are written for shock and little else.”
“I daresay that they are written to entertain,” Theodosia argued. “And sometimes, that is enough.”
“Is it?” Richard countered. “Surely one’s time could be better spent with works that sharpen the mind.”
“My mind is plenty sharp, my lord. And I enjoy indulging it in both politics and passion,” she declared.
His lips twitched as if he were restraining a grin. “That sounds rather dangerous.”
“Perhaps,” she replied, raising her spoon to her lips. “But you might consider trying it sometime.”
Lady Wilton let out a soft, almost resigned sigh, and Olivia smothered a laugh behind her napkin. The conversation moved on, but Theodosia couldn’t help noticing the way Lord Wilton’s eyes lingered on her just a moment longer than necessary—thoughtful, and perhaps just a touch intrigued.
