“It is a lovely home you have, the drawing room is particularly distinct.”
She glanced up and their eyes locked at last. “You are fond of gold then, Your Grace?”
He shook his head. “Not at all. I find it ghastly, in fact.”
A smile appeared on her face and she leaned in. “As do I. But please do not tell my Mother.”
“It shall be our secret,” he promised with a wink. “Although I must admit my Mother was very fond of the same type of decor as yours. She would not have been out of place at the Court of King Henry the VIII, for the taste in unique furnishings.”
“The same is true for Mama,” she looked at her mother who was eating her soup, an eye on the pair.
Before he could say any more, a footman approached Lady Rowena to serve her meal and her attention was diverted.
For the rest of the first course, he found himself unable to converse with her further for the Earl was ever eager to either talk about the Vineyard, or to further conversation between Christopher and Catherine.
Catherine, of course, was excited to be able to share her many virtues with the visiting pair. Before long, Christopher, and by extension Henry, who sat and ate while rolling his eyes discreetly, knew a lot of the young woman’s accomplishments.
“I spent a summer learning Latin as well; it was ever so difficult,” Lady Catherine said, and Christopher found himself nodding once more, wishing that the meal might end. He then would be able to retreat to the drawing room, where conversation with Rowena might be more to his liking.
At last, the second course was served. Throughout dinner, Christopher’s yearning to be alone with Rowena grew stronger and stronger, and yet he was beginning to feel that his plan to get closer to her by way of a family dinner had been a miscalculation.
Between the second course and dessert, while the servants were busy removing dishes and bringing more, Christopher tucked on Henry’s elbow, indicating toward the window which overlooked the garden.
“Henry, I require your assistance.”
His brother pursed his lips. “I dare say you do. You are seated right beside the lady of your heart and yet you’ve hardly exchanged a word with her.”
“It is because the Earl is ever so eager to have me get to know his younger daughter. Henry, I fear I shall have my entire evening occupied by learning all about Catherine and nothing of Rowena. Either that, or the vineyard.”
He sighed, “And what would you have me do about it?”
Christopher scratched his head. “Well, if you see opportunity perhaps engage Lady Catherine in conversation during dessert? If you cannot, I know she is eager to show off her musical skill after dinner. Perhaps once she is finished, distract her then. And the Earl and Lady Hazelshire, as well. I am certain the young woman, Betsy, will take a hint that I wish to converse with Lady Rowena and give us the space.”
Henry sighed. “Distract them? How? With a magic trick?”
“You have your head in books all day long. Does it not inspire your imagination? I rely on you, brother.”
“Very well,” Henry muttered and made his way back to the table where dessert was about to be served. “Havisham House will indeed be entirely mine by the time this is all over and done with,” he said under his breath but loud enough for Christopher to hear.
When they returned to the table for the dessert course Christopher felt so full that he did not think he could eat another thing. However, the Earl had indeed spared no expense and the table was once again laden with offerings.
“Are these lemon cheesecake bites?” Henry said with his eyes wide. Christopher smiled, for his brother was all but salivating over the cake.
“They are! They are my favorite,” Lady Catherine said and took a piece for herself. She was about to reach for the Bath buns which were laid out next to the cake when Lady Hazelshire cleared her throat, causing the young girl to remove her hand.
Beside him, Lady Rowena had reached for the smallest piece of tea cake. He noted how she looked toward her mother who gave her an almost unperceivable nod.
“Do you not care for the cheesecake, Lady Rowena?” he leaned in and asked quietly. She turned and dropped her voice.
“I do, Your Grace. I am fond of all sweets, especially the Bath buns. However, my Mother does not approve. She is ever worried about our waist lines, Papa’s included. Otherwise, I would have two pieces,” she giggled a little when she said it, and the sound brought him an immense feeling of joy.
“Perhaps I shall smuggle a piece out for you.” He was delighted when she responded with another suppressed laugh. Showing that he was entirely serious, he reached for the buns, placing two pieces on his plate. Then, making a great show of looking around to table to ensure nobody was watching, he pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket.
“And now, for the maneuver…” He winked at her and slipped the wrapped bun into his inside pocket. “Ready for the Lady’s enjoyment later on this evening.”
“You are not like any of the other lords I’ve met, Your Grace. Now we must only find occasion to exchange the contraband.”
It was a compliment. Of this, he was certain.
