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“Frances?” His voice soft, almost intimate.
“I believe,” Frances said, her voice hard and impersonal, “that husbands are, in the general course of things—” She broke off, realizing that she had to curb her tongue, at least in front of the servants and John and Alicia.
“Yes, my dear?”
“Husbands are husbands.”
“Ah, an indictment or a compliment? I wonder.”
John, quite aware of the footmen’s rampant interest, turned the topic neatly back to his drainage ditches.
Once Otis had directed the footmen to serve up the lamb cutlets, rissoles, roast ribs of beef, neck of veal in béchamel, and the multitude of vegetables, Hawk gave him a dismissing nod.
Hawk’s jaw tightened when Otis looked toward Frances. “Thank you, Otis,” she said calmly, not missing her husband’s look. “We will see to ourselves now.” She didn’t know him well enough. Would he create a scene, jump up from his chair and roar and embarrass all of them?
“Excellent,” Hawk said as he chewed on the veal. “Do you have veal in Scotland, Frances?”
“Only at Christmas, my lord,” she said. “And then only a small portion, of course.”
“How very odd,” Alicia said. “Doesn’t veal grow in Scotland?”
John laughed. “A city-bred wife,” he said, patting her hand. “Veal is not like potatoes, my dear. Young cow, you know.”
Alicia’s eyes twinkled. “Really, dear?”
“You see how informative husbands can be, Frances?” Hawk said. “We can be most useful, I assure you. In many areas.”
Frances’ beef could have been the buttered potatoes for all she could taste. It was too soon for her to rise and leave the gentlemen to their port. And if she did rise, Hawk would in all likelihood leap across the table and strangle her. Damn Alicia, she thought, she was enjoying herself immensely!
Frances was well-bred; good manners had been pounded into her by Adelaide since she was twelve years old. But this situation called for drastic action. She couldn’t allow Hawk to continue with his veiled innuendos. He was not being a gentleman. There was no reason for her to be a lady.
“I have heard so much about the pleasures of London,” she said to the table at large. “I am most excited about visiting with you, my lord.”
She saw him scowl and grinned at her buttered peas.
“Just think of all the balls, the soirees, the routs—isn’t that what they are called, my lord?”
“Yes,” Hawk said. Damned little minx! Trying to turn the tables on him, was she?
“My father-in-law told me all about Hawksbury House. I am most anxious to refurbish the house and hire more servants, settle in for the remainder of the Season. And of course, my lord, I want to meet all your friends.”
“Lyonel sends his regards,” Hawk said.
“Such a charming gentleman,” Alicia said. “Frances told me he visited just before you left, Hawk.”
“It appears,” Hawk said, “that Lyonel saw a good deal more than did I. He was most surprised by Frances and doubtless wondered about her ridiculous charade.”
“As a gentleman I don’t suppose he would remark on it” said Frances.
“No, he didn’t. About traveling to London, my dear Frances, perhaps your ... health won’t allow for it.”
John looked up from his plate, clearly startled. “Why, Frances, I had no idea you weren’t feeling up to snuff!”
“I am quite well, John.” But her eyes were wary on her husband’s face.
Hawk said in a tender, most solicitous voice, “My dear, you are not overly ill yet in the mornings?”
Alicia cried out in excitement. “Frances, you didn’t tell me! How every marvelous!”
