Looking up, he realised her leaf-green eyes were fixed on his scowling countenance, and an amused smile played around her bow lips.
“Was this your first London Season, Miss Trewent?” he asked.
Rosalind felt her cousin tense beside her. They had talked over what they would say when her past was questioned. After all, she was rather old for a debut season.
“It was. I was rather ill, previously, and so my come-out was delayed.”
There, let him make of that what he will. It was not gentlemanly to ask about the illness, and she knew her delicate appearance could be attributed to her health. “I did not see you in society, Major,” she countered.
“No. I am not a social animal. I did, briefly, enter the London whirl the previous year but found it was not to my taste.” His eyes paused at her mouth, and she made a great effort not to lick her lips.
“I’ll drink to that.” Benedict raised his glass. “Can’t stand all that…gossipy chat. And the people, and the crush, and the smell–”
“Ben prefers the smell of horses to people, Major. I always say if a woman wants to attract his attention, she’d better rub herself down with straw and wear a harness.”
As soon as the words were said, she knew they were wrong – too blunt and judging by everyone’s faces – most improper. Benedict’s expression was half-pained, half-amused and Mrs Mereworth…
As for Lucas, his eyes had turned an intense, dark-grey. He didn’t look shocked…just hungry.
“Of course,” Rosalind said softly, hoping to atone, “most women would object to the bridle.”
Benedict groaned, and Mrs Mereworth choked on her bonbon.
Lucas was silent, but his hand was fiercely clenched around his wine glass. His lips parted and a grin suddenly broadened his features.
Damn, she thought, it was too much fun to be wicked, especially if it made Lucas smile.
“Although,” she continued, “I suppose it depends who has the reins and if th–”
“Rosalind, I believe the major and I will retire to the study,” Benedict interrupted desperately.
“Very well, gentlemen. Will we see you after? Or will you be some while? I have letters to write to Clara and Lucy.”
“Probably a while. We’re going to go through the list of tenants on the estate.”
Rosalind nodded.Probablygoing to go through the bottle of whisky as well, but she thought she’d said enough tonight.
“Until tomorrow then, gentlemen. Mrs Mereworth, are you coming? Benedict… Major… Sweet dreams.”
