He was trapped in this old castle, haunted by ghosts of his past, and now she was trapped here with him.
And he still wasn’t sure if he was a beast or not.
Dinner wasn’t a complete disaster.
In fact, if Lyon were being truthful with himself, it was almost…nice.
Bonnie had joked about not changing for the meal, but in truth, Lyon’s dinners were always informal. More often than not, Keith brought him a tray to his study when he’d forgotten the time, or the two men ate together in the room off the kitchens his grandfather had renovated.
But Oliphant Castledidhave a formal dining room, and apparently, Keith had seen fit to use it that evening. It had taken Lyon three tries to figure out where the man had laidout the meal, and by the time he made it to the dining room, he was scowling.
Not that this was any different than usual.
“Hereye are!”
“Good evening, milord,” Keith intoned seriously, his hands clasped behind his back as he did a credible impression of an old family retainer. “Pray be seated.”
Lyon glared at the table. Bonnie was already seated—apparently,shehadn’t had any issue finding the place—at one end of the long table. And the second place setting was directly across from her.
“There?” Lyon growled at the other man.
“Yes, milord. So you can better converse with the lady.” Keith blinked comically, innocently. “Unless ye wanted me to place ye at the arse-end of the table, where the two of ye would have to yell at one another, which ye could use as an excuse no’ to talk to the poor woman?”
Since that wasexactlywhat Lyon had meant, he just muttered, “Dinnae call me milord,” and stalked to his place setting.
As Keith poured the soup, Bonnie smiled across the table at him. Damn, in the candlelight, her big blue eyes sparkled enticingly, and her smile made her face light up.
“Did you get distracted by work, Lyon?”
“Nay, I got lost,” he barked, scooping up his spoon and plopping his other elbow on the table. Let her think he had horrible manners. “Why in the hell are we having dinnerhere, Keith?”
“Usually we eat downstairs near the kitchens, milady,” Keith intoned in an aside to Bonnie. He cleared his throat and placed the tureen down on the sideboard, before facing Lyon once more. “I thought ye’d be better able to impress the lady here in the dining room, Lyon, than downstairs.”
“I dinnae want to impress her,” he mumbled, before lowering his head and slurping up his soup, in an effort to hide the lie. When he realized itwasa lie, he just slurped louder, hoping she’d think he was the uncultured beast everyone assumed.
Bonnie of course, ate delicately. But he was pleased to see, enthusiastically. “This is delicious! I have always loved hot squash soup in the winter.”
“It’s a miracle it’s still warm, after the trek from the kitchens,” he mumbled.
Keith ignored him. “I’ll be certain to pass yer compliments on to Mrs. Oliphant. The new cook, no’ the housekeeper.”
“Oh, you have a housekeeper?” From under lowered brows, Lyon watched Bonnie peer around Keith toward the door. “I have not seen anyone beside you.”
The younger man shrugged. “She doesnae live here. Just me and Lyon. Mrs. Oliphant comes in each morning—she left the soup and the roast for tonight warming for us—and the other Mrs. Oliphant brings her girls up as needed. Oh, and Mrs. Oliphant, who comes to get the washing twice a week.”
Bonnie merely hummed at the litany of names, as if she was used to the surplus of Mrs. Oliphants, and recognized each one. Perhaps she did.
“Well, the soup is delightful, and judging from the haste with which Lyon is inhaling it, he agrees.”
Lyon froze. Slowly, he lowered his spoon and lifted his head to see her smiling at him from under her lashes.
She was…teasinghim?Him?
When was the last time someone had teased him? He couldn’t honestly recall.
He glanced at Keith in confusion, and the fact the younger man was smirking didn’t help one bit.
“I’ll pass both yer compliments on to Mrs. Oliphant, milady.”
