Page 46 of The Wedding-Crashing Duchess

“It is both.”

Ronan picked up his fork, although he did not return his attention to his plate.

“What is yours?” he asked.

“My favourite food?”

“Yes.”

Augusta thought for a moment, even though the answer had been obvious from the beginning.

“Lemon cakes,” she said. “Although they must have enough lemon to taste sharp beneath the sugar, and the icing must be thin, since thick icing makes everything cloying. Charity says I always choose food that is too sweet, while Matilda eats twice as many as I do and somehow escapes criticism.”

“That sounds like a grievance rather than an explanation.”

“It is an important part of the answer,” Augusta replied. “You mentioned your family, and I mentioned mine.”

“You mentioned unfair treatment involving cake.”

“Family history often begins with unfair treatment involving food.”

Ronan almost smiled.

“Do you eat lemon cakes often?”

“Not as often as I would like, since a lady is not supposed to appear too interested in food, particularly at social gatherings, where she must pretend that three bites are enough to sustain her through several hours of dancing.”

Ronan’s expression became genuinely perplexed.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why must she pretend not to be hungry?”

Augusta stared at him. “It is considered more refined.”

“It sounds foolish.”

“It is simply how ladies are expected to behave.”

“That does not make it less foolish.”

Augusta set down her glass.

“It is my turn to ask a question.”

“You have not answered mine.”

“You did not ask one.”

“I asked why women pretend not to be hungry.”

“That was not part of the game.”

“It was a question, and you must answer.”

Augusta narrowed her eyes, although she could not deny that he had found a way to use her own rules against her.