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That brought her up short, momentary shock and sadness washing over her face and darkening her beautiful cerulean eyes. “And you do not even have any siblings?”
“None.”
“Oh.” Her voice was soft.
Hetty’s face was quite expressive, he noted as he worked the marble to more closely resemble the soft oval formed by the delicate structure of her cheekbones. Her moods were quite easy to read, showing clearly across her features, each one with its own beauty to enhance her natural looks. Even this, her slightly saddened demeanor, sparked ideas in his mind.
That wistful curve of her lips, the way her eyes widen and glimmer. If the marble was to capture such a soulful expression, it would not look out of place on an angel.
A moment later, she shook off the slight melancholy his words had brought her. A wry twist of her lips and a shift of her expression, and she looked at him again, blue eyes trained on his face with a focus that made him feel as though he were the model and she the artisan.
“Surely, you do at least have someone with whom to converse?”
“I have.”
He saw it then, watching her sidelong from the corner of his eyes. A flash of irritation or exasperation, and a quirk of the mouth that was equal parts frustration and amusement. It was not unlike the look she had given him the night before, when she’d replied to his question about the carriage.
“You have friends, then, who are near enough to call upon?”
“I do.”
Another flash of that expression, and a glitter of challenge and mischief in her gaze, though he suspected she did not intend for him to see it with how quickly she composed herself.
What on earth could she have to be exasperated about? I did not bid her be silent, and I have answered her questions.Realization sparked as sharp as inspiration had only moments ago.God above! She couldn’t possibly be that unsettled by reticence? Or does she see it as a challenge?
“Do you attend many events in the city, my lord?”
“No.”
A frown. “But surely, if you have close associates, you would have…social matters to attend.”
“Very few.”
There was no mistaking her expression then, or the way one pale, delicate hand flexed within the folds of the fabric clutched to her chest.
She is! She truly is trying to...to what? Glean information from me? Inspiration she may be, but I’ve no desire for either conversation or confession, if that is what she desires. In any case, she clearly sees the shortness of my replies as some sort of challenge of her own.
He had little interest in speaking much, particularly when he was focusing his attention on the marble in front of him. All the same, the slight coquettish humor in her eyes had sparked an ember of mischief within him.
Well, if challenge is her inspiration as she is mine, then I shall endeavor not to disappoint. She shall soon see that I can well match her inquisitiveness with stoicism and silence.
“Do you enjoy the trifles of a Season, my lord?”
“No.”
“Why would you not?”
“Too mercenary.”All the politics among the men, and every unmarried woman looking for a husband to claim, and never mind whether the man they set their sights on is at all of the marrying mind.
“Whyever would you think that, my lord?”
“Ton politics.”
“And you do not have some interest, with your present position?”
“No.”None that cannot be conveyed through Jackson if needed. And none pressing since I have claimed my inheritance and announced my need to recover from the rigors of war.
“But surely you have some occupation.”
