“Excellent. You have accomplished the minimum required by an English gentlewoman,” Winston said, throwing himself into an armchair and propping one riding boot onto a pouffe.
It was a pose designed to look insolent and uncaring. Adeline pressed her lips together, taking in a breath through her noseand looking around the room. Winston felt a brief moment of triumph.
“I think if you were to treat me in an unprejudiced manner, you would admit that I am accomplished in the gentle arts.”
Winston shrugged. “So, you say.”
The red in Adeline’s cheeks deepened. Her eyes caught fire, and she took a step towards him. She stood over him with one finger raised.
“Do you wag your finger at me?” Winston asked.
“No, not at all,” Adeline replied, lowering her hand, “though your insulting tone probably deserves an equally insolent response. But I will withdraw because I would not want my finger bitten…again.”
Winston grinned savagely. “It was you who bit me first.”
“It was you who touched me first.”
“Only to quiet you so I could get a word in.”
“There are ways of doing that without laying hands upon a person,” Adeline said, quickly.
“So, I assaulted you?”
“Hardly. Merely an unwanted touch,” Adeline replied.
“This is becoming a recipe for dismissal, exchanging insults with your employer.”
“You are not my employer. And I have not insulted you.”
“Implying that I force myself upon defenseless womenisan insult.”
Despite himself, Winston was enjoying the dance. He felt himself engaged in a duel, parrying each response with a counterattack of his own. He wondered what the prize would be for the victor.
“Why have you taken against me so violently?” Adeline asked.
It was not a demand. It was an honest response, plaintive. He could hear it in her voice. See it in her eyes. He saw her then, not fierce but vulnerable.
If I had a mind to, I could exploit that. Apply pressure that forces her to acquiesce.
But he knew he would not. Now that her vulnerability was revealed, he found himself wanting to rise above the taunting and teasing. He wished to assure her that all was well. Even to embrace her. The thought of holding her in his arms, as he had done of necessity when they had fallen down the stairs, wasintoxicating. His eyes briefly wandered, taking in her slim figure. Then it returned to her face.
“I have not taken against you,” Winston heard himself saying, propelling himself from the chair. “I have only been less than hospitable—until now.”
He walked to a decanter of ruby red liquid on a sideboard. “Would you join me in a burgundy?” He poured himself a glass and raised an eyebrow, holding the decanter over another glass. Adeline nodded.
“A small measure,” she said.
He poured and then handed her the glass. Their fingers touched. Winston felt the thrill that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
“I asked you here,” he began, voice controlled, “because of Louisa. She is my life. Everything I do, I do for her.”
There. I have gone against my highest principle. The most important lesson my father had for me. Show no weakness. What will she do with it?
Adeline sipped delicately.
“That is good to know. Not all fathers are so…paternal.”
Winston felt the brief spark of kinship.
