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Chapter 10
They should then carry on an amusing conversation on various subjects, and may also talk suggestively of things which would be considered as coarse, or not to be mentioned generally in society.
The Kama Sutra of Vatsyayana
“Alice?”
“Pardon?” Nick must have asked her a question.
Alice had been thinking about his hands.
About how they made his wineglass look like a child’s cup. And how, even though his entire frame was constructed on such a massive scale, he moved with a lethal grace.
They were seated in the formal dining room, Nick at one end of the table and Alice at the other. The duke was sitting next to Nick, with Berthold positioned behind him.
“I asked how do you find the meal?” Nick called down the long table.
“It’s very rich,” Alice replied.
And very unhealthful.
Veal in cream sauce. Rare beef dripping with blood that had fair turned her stomach to even see it. Nary an enticing vegetable in sight.
Only an enticing marquess.
She probably shouldn’t think about those skillful hands of his.
Holding a hammer. Holding her in place for his kiss.
It made her own hand tremble as she lifted her fork.
“You’re not eating your beef, my dear,” said the duke. “Don’t you like it?”
“I never eat beef, Your Grace,” Alice replied.
“Never?” asked Nick.
“I believe it to be insalubrious.”
“I suppose I should have asked for your preferences to give to Cook.” Nick studied her plate. “You’re not fond of potatoes either?”
She didn’t want to appear ungrateful, but the potatoes were smothered in such a large amount of butter and congealed beef drippings that she could scarcely force herself to take one bite. “I prefer more colorful vegetables. I am a devotee of Mr. Shelley’s writings on the subject of a frugivorous diet.”
“Frugivor-what, my dear?” asked the duke, stopping with his fork half raised.
“The theory that man is by nature more fitted to a purely vegetable diet.”
Nick scoffed, helping himself to a large slice of pink beef. “All those sensitive poetic types think they can live on air and kisses.”
“Surely you must have a kitchen garden?” Alice persisted. “You have heard of green vegetables? Leafy, healthful things. Grow in the earth. Broccoli. Spinach. That sort of thing.”
Nick laughed. “I think we could find you a few green leafy things to chew on.”
“Don’t like vegetables,” March interjected from his post by the door. “Don’t trust ’em.”
Alice stared at the man. Footmen were never supposed to interrupt repasts.
“I don’t much care for vegetables, either,” said the duke.
