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“Can't you ever be serious?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Saluting me, knocking all of my books down, little paper birds—can't you take anything seriously?”
Caroline narrowed her eyes, watching him wave his arms wildly as he spoke. She'd only known him a few days, but that was more than enough to know that this burst of emotion was not characteristic. Still, she didn't much appreciate having her attempts at friendship and civility tossed back in her face like so much dirty bathwater.
“Do you want to know how I define serious?” she said in a low, angry voice. “Serious is a man who orders his son to rape his ward. Serious is a young woman with no place to go. Serious is not an overturned vase and a wet carpet.”
He only scowled at her in response, so she added, “And as for my little salute—I was just trying to be friendly.”
“I don't want to be friends,” he bit off.
“Yes, I see that now.”
“You are here for two reasons, and two reasons only, and you'd best not forget that.”
“Perhaps you'd care to elucidate?”
“One: You are here to aid us in the capture of Oliver Prewitt. Two—” He cleared his throat and actually blushed before repeating the word. “Two: You are here because, after abducting you through no fault of your own, well, I owe you that much.”
“Ah, so I am not supposed to try to help around the house and garden or in any way be friendly with the servants?”
He glared at her but did not reply. Caroline took that response as an affirmative, and she gave him a nod that would have done the queen proud. “I see. In that case, perhaps you'd best not join me for tea.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I have this terrible habit, you see.”
“Just one?”
“Just one that would offend you, sir,” she shot back, her tone not particularly nice. “When I take tea with other people, I tend to converse with them. And when I converse with people, I'm likely to do so in a polite and friendly manner. And when then happens—”
“Sarcasm doesn't become you.”
“And when that happens,” she continued in a louder voice, “the strangest thing occurs. Not all the time, mind you, and probably not with you, Mr. Ravenscroft, but I'm sure you wouldn't like to chance it.”
“Chance what?”
“Why, becoming friends with me.”
“Oh, for the love of God,” he muttered.
“Just push the tea service toward me, if you please.”
Blake stared at her for a moment before doing as she asked.
“Would you like a cup to take with you?”
“No,” he said perversely. “I'll stay.”
“The consequences could be deadly.”
“It seems to me that the consequences could be even deadlier to my furnishings if I leave you alone.”
Caroline glared at him and slammed a teacup into a saucer. “Milk?”
“Yes. No sugar. And do try to be gentle with the china. It's a family heirloom. Now that I think of it…”
