“I was summoned,” she corrected, moving to take her seat.
“Were you?” Evan challenged. “I merely sent out a message requesting your presence here this evening.”
Isadora jaw twitched. Her husband surely had the knack for making everything sound so innocuous, even when it wasn’t.
“I am sure that it would not go well with you had I refused yourrequest,”she said sardonically. “Therefore, one can make the intelligent assumption that it wasn’t so much of a request at all. It was more of an order.”
Evan’s lips twitched, as though she was spot on in her analysis. “I do not wish to get into the semantics of it, but the important thing to note here is that you obeyed.”
Just the way that he said the words sent a small shiver down her spine, but she quickly composed herself and shot him a wayward look. “Do not get used to it, Your Grace.”
A quiet chuckle rumbled from him as he reached for his glass of wine, taking a slow sip before setting it down. “I don’t intend to. Though the idea does sound quite appealing.”
Isadora pondered over that for a moment. Would he really like it better if she was unquestioning and obeyed his every order without so much as a second thought?
Perhaps so. But that seemed impossible to do, especially when so much of what he did madeno senseto her.
“I’m afraid that only the opposite is a possibility here,” she admitted finally. “As unappealing as it may be for you.”
“You’re just putting words in my mouth now,” Evan retorted. “I never said anything aboutanythingbeing unappealing.”
Isadora hated how that sentence made her blush. It wasn’t even a compliment—it was simply a negation of an insult.
Get a hold of yourself.
Isadora exhaled to steady herself before smoothing her napkin over her lap. “I assume this is your way of beginning your lessons?”
Evan leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “You tell me, sweetheart. Where does one begin teaching a rogue how to be a gentleman?”
“Difficult question,” she replied, maintaining the eye contact. “But as you have asked for my presence at dinner, I shall take your lead and begin with the basics.”
“The basics,” he repeated with mock interest.
She gestured toward the array of utensils laid out before them. “Tonight, we start with proper dining etiquette.”
Evan arched a brow, glancing down at the assortment of forks, knives, and spoons before him. “I have to say that this is not my favorite topic.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said swiftly. “Because I have chosen it to be our first lesson.”
Something in his expression shifted as she said the words. Almost like admiration of sorts.
Does he like it when I assert myself like this?she thought to herself.How very out of character for someone who thrives on being in control.
“I fail to see why one man needs so many tools to put food in his mouth,” Evan retorted finally.
“It is not about utility,” Isadora sighed, already regretting this endeavor. Evan was not someone who cared about the properway to do anything. “It is about refinement. Presentation, if you will.”
“You mean it is about making men feel superior over the arrangement of their cutlery,” Evan smirked in response.
She ignored him, picking up her soup spoon and demonstrating the correct way to hold it. “This is the spoon you use for soup. You do not?—”
Evan grabbed the wrong spoon and dipped it into his bowl.
“That is incorrect.”
He took a long, slow sip, watching her over the rim of his spoon. “Oh no.”
She stared at him, unimpressed. “Let me show you the correct way to do it.Again.”
