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After she swallowed another bite of breakfast, she tilted her chin up and looked directly at Lord Farleigh. “I still intend to take my role seriously, my lord. If you pass up an opportunity to be light-hearted and merry, I will see to it you pay your forfeit.”
And then Lord Farleigh did something she hadn’t entirely expected. He allowed a slow, warm smile to alter his expression into something she would call flirtatious on another man. “And I will do all I can, Miss Frost, to see that you are standing beneath the mistletoe on Christmas Eve.”
A chill went down her spine at the same moment heat built low in her belly. The conflicting sensations made her shiver, and she hastily turned her attention back to her plate. Hoping no one saw the effect Lord Farleigh’s words had on her.
Men such as him had no right to be both attractive and infuriating. It made them far too interesting to study. Doubtless, driving women to such curiosity about him only added to the earl’s opinion of himself.
Except—except she really hadn’t seen any evidence of arrogance beyond their first impression of one another. Because he had thought she would be like other women vying for his attention. A man in his position had every reason to suspect the intentions of those around him, she supposed.
Isleen couldn’t let him have the last word on the matter, though she let it rest while Teague and Lord Farleigh took up another topic of conversation. Lord Atella joined them, expressing concern over the rising grain tariffs. Sir Andrew came into the dining room and immediately piled his plate full of bacon and roasted vegetables. Last of all came the duke, and they all rose until he took his seat.
“Miss Frost, I must apologize. I forgot my younger daughters would take breakfast apart, since we have guests. And all the married women have remained in their rooms. Apart from your brother, I hope these ne’er-do-wells have behaved themselves.” He looked pointedly at his son and Sir Andrew.
“Each has behaved as he ought,” she reassured the duke. It surprised her how relaxed she felt in his company, given his rank. The man had such a fatherly, kind way about him. She glanced at Lord Farleigh, mentally comparing the two, only to find that he had gone stiff all over and his expression appeared stern.
“Excellent.” The duke turned his attention to his son. “Farleigh, your mother asked that I remind you of the letter you promised to write to your cousin, Thomas. She seems to think you will forget.”
Though the duke remained perfectly relaxed, his son did not waver in posture.
“I will not forget, Your Grace. I will see to it directly after breakfast.”
Isleen rose from the table and hastily told the gentlemen not to rise with her. “I am looking in on my sister. Thank you for a most excellent breakfast, Your Grace. And the fine company, my lords.”
She left the room, her mind circling around the strangeness of Lord Farleigh’s reaction to his father. Surely, there could be no ill will between father and son. At least, none that the duke seemed aware of. She had sat through enough uncomfortable dinners with people who pretended to like one another to sense when that was the case.
Lord Farleigh could not be intimidated by his father, surely.
But something was amiss.
Perhaps the earl’s friends had the right of it, and he needed a reminder to be less stern. And it was up to her, to some measure, to ensure he had every opportunity to act a little silly.
Isleen needed a few ideas. And the schoolroom seemed an excellent place to get them.
CHAPTER7
Although uncertain what he’d expected, being left alone by Miss Frost surprised Simon. He’d felt certain she would begin her torture of him at breakfast, flexing her power over him in some small way. Especially after he had told her and Lord Dunmore his suspicions about his friends’ motivations.
Andrew didn’t bother to hide his disappointment over the waste of an opportunity. “I thought Miss Frost had more spirit than that. She didn’t seem interested in commanding you at all.”
They had left the breakfast table together, leaving Luca, Dunmore, and the duke discussing the future of Parliament and which seats needed filling in the House of Commons. Simon and his father had already had the same conversation, and Simon had a letter to write to the cousin nearest him in age.
“What did you want her to do? Order me to skip about the table while my father enjoyed his morning toast?” Simon had a dozen places to choose from for letter writing. The question was whether he wished to undertake the task in private.
“That would have been amusing. I dare say your father would have had a laugh.”
Simon winced. “Then I will be grateful you chose her rather than yourself as my keeper.”
Andrew seemed to speak more to himself than Simon, keeping pace with his friend out of long-habit. “I did not think she was cowed by your position, nor enamored with your title, in a way that would keep her from making some truly glorious demands.”
That made Simon chuckle. “She certainly isn’t intimidated or charmed by me. I told you what she said during the castle tour.”
“Indeed. That is what made me think she would be perfect for my plan.”
“Exactly how long have you had this ‘wager’ planned?” Simon put all the skepticism he could muster into the last word as he turned again.
“Hmm? Who said I planned it?”
“You did. Just a moment ago.”
