“You say that as though work is finite,” he laughed softly. “There are always things to do, Duchess.”
“Well then, perhaps I shall have to prepare a lesson on time and prioritize it,” she said. “It seems that my husband is in dire need of it.”
“And here I was thinking you had softened toward me.” Evan grinned, shaking his head slightly.
“Only momentarily,” she said, turning her attention back to the breakfast in front of her.
“Fleetingly,” he noted, but Isadora refused to explain anything further.
It was something that she had learned fromhisplaybook after all. Answer the question without giving too much away.
She tried to limit her focus to the food in front of her, taking small bites of her meal that she carefully chewed. All the while, Evan did not look away from her even once.
“You are staring,” she observed without looking up.
“I am observing you,” he said simply.
She set her cup down. “There is a difference?”
“A very important one,” Evan said lazily. “Staring implies a lack of thought. I assure you, sweetheart, I am always thinking.”
“Right,” she said dryly. “That does not comfort me in the least.”
“Why should it?” Evan chuckled. “It is not meant to.”
She ignored him, determined to focus on her meal again, but Evan was not a man who let silences sit for long.
“I must say,” he mused, reaching for a piece of fruit, “I am surprised you did not try to resume last night’s interrogation.”
Isadora’s knife paused for the briefest moment before she continued spreading her butter.
Oh.She didn’t think he was going to bring that up. Suddenly, her heart started to beat faster.
“It was not an interrogation,” she offered as a response.
“No?” Evan hummed. “I recall it feeling like one.”
“Then, you recall incorrectly,” she said primly, setting her toast down. “It was a polite conversation.”
“Ah, yes. Nothing so polite as an interrogation,” he jibed, and she found herself wishing that he hadn’t referred to it as that.
“That is putting it a bit harshly,” she sighed. “I was merely trying to understand the man to whom I am married.”
“A semantics issue, again,” Evan smirked. That seemed to be a recurring theme between the two of them. “And what have you deduced?”
She considered him carefully before answering.
“That you do not give away much,” she said. “And when you do, you like to make it seem as though you are indifferent.”
“You are very perceptive, sweetheart,” he murmured, watching her carefully still.
“Of course, I am,” she said. “I like to think that I am observant of the world around me and those who are in it.”
“Then you ought to consider being a detective, perhaps” he continued, setting his cup down. “I believe it would be quite lucrative for you.”
Isadora shot him a look. “There is no need for such a thing. I have enough responsibilities as a duchess.” Annoyance seeped into her tone. “Besides, I see no benefit in considering these ludicrous scenarios. It would be fitting if we spent our rather limited time that we have with one another during the day talking about something more substantial.”
“I was merely joking,” he shrugged. “But if you really insist, then I have a question for you.”
