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Perhaps he was much friendlier than she had thought.
“I think it best I not declare a favorite, as I am so new to your household, I have no wish to pick a side until I know what both have to offer.”
“Are you a politician, like your brother?”
“No. Merely cautious in declaring my allegiances.” She gave attention to her meal when Lord Farleigh’s sister asked him a question from across the table.
Whatever the duke paid his cook, it certainly wasn’t enough. Every bite of the meal was delicious. A variety of sauces made the tenderest foul rich to the taste while rosemary, thyme, and hints of spices she didn’t have names for made the roasted vegetables as much a treat as the fruit-flavored jellies.
The conversation flowed freely around her as the duke’s family spoke with informality of the happenings at the castle and the nearest village, Lambsthorpe.
It was amid the general chatter that Lord Farleigh leaned closer to her to say, in that same low voice as before, “Miss Frost? I hope you don’t mind my presumption. Earlier today, I think I said something that made you cross with me. If that is the case, I apologize for it.”
An heir to a dukedom—apologizing toher? She nearly choked on the bite of potato in her mouth. She had to cover her lips with her napkin while looking at him askance. Yes, she had misjudged him.
Once certain no unladylike coughing fit would take hold, Isleen answered him. “I think I was cross when I arrived at your doorstep, my lord.” The admittance cost her nothing and was the truth. “We had traveled a long way, and I was more sensitive than I had reason to be. I likely didn’t make a fair impression on you, either.”
The man’s smile remained somewhat crooked. “As a gentleman, I will insist you made the very best of impressions.”
“Come now, my lord. We both know I leapt on every word you said like an antagonized house cat. You were making conversation, and I took your remarks as a critique of my education.”
“Ah, is that what happened?” He seemed genuinely surprised, confirming all the more how horribly Isleen had misinterpreted him. “I didn’t mean to do such a thing, Miss Frost. I would never question a lady’s education or intelligence in that way.”
Isleen stared at him a moment, sorting through their exchange from earlier that day. “Then what, pray tell, were you trying to get at? I feel even more at sixes and sevens with that conversation.”
He blinked, and the man’s face turned a shade more red than before. It was a good thing Isleen’s mother sat at the other end of the table. She’d be mortified to see how easily her daughter had put a future duke to the blush.
* * *
Simon hadn’t expectedMiss Frost to continue asking forthright questions. More the fool him. Even in a cherrier disposition, she wasn’t one to let a thing be said without fully understanding its meaning. It was a trait he’d normally admire, except as the one under her scrutiny, he felt terribly uncomfortable.
If only the ladies would rise at that moment to leave the men to their pipes and brandy. But everyone around them continued to chat merrily with their plates still more full than empty.
He couldn’t leave her question unanswered. But it wasn’t right to answer in a way that would make her uncomfortable, either. “I was merely trying to remain aloof,” he said at last.
Her eyebrows drew tightly together, creating a small crease between them. “Aloof? What a strange thing to be when welcoming a guest.”
He could leave it at that. He knew he could turn back to his plate and pretend he had nothing more to say. But the downward turn of her lips and the disappointment in her tone acted as pricks to his conscience.
“An unmarried, lady guest,” he corrected. “I hope you do not think me arrogant, Miss Frost. You see, I am used to fending off the attentions of eligible women when they visit my family’s home.”
Her delicately curved eyebrows went upward at once, and her dark eyes widened while her lips parted. “Oh—oh dear.” Then she sucked in a quick breath that momentarily worried him. Was she about to cry? But—no. She covered her mouth to stifle alaugh.
The pretty Irish woman was laughing at him.
His pride took the hit gracelessly, and he felt heat in his cheeks in a way he hadn’t in years and years. The little colleen had made himblush. A thing reserved for damsels and youths with cracking voices. Not for a man grown, and certainly not for the heir of a powerful dukedom.
“What is the joke?” Josephine’s question popped the bubble of humiliation Simon had created for himself.
He looked at his sister, completely speechless.
To his surprise, it was Miss Frost who answered. “Your brother is merely making his case for Ivanhoe, my lady. He has a rather clever way of looking at Friar Tuck that amused me.”
Josephine’s eyes narrowed in Simon’s direction. “It isn’t fair to sway her when I cannot have my say as well. Miss Frost, you mustn’t allow him to cheat like that.”
Miss Forst Frost gave a sharp nod as she affected a serious expression, her eyebrows drawn together again, though not as tightly as before. “I will change the subject of our conversation, Lady Josephine.” Then she smiled at his sister, as though they were all playing a game together.
Simon forced his own grin, and his sister dismissed him with a tilt of her head before returning to her conversation with their mother.
