Christopher leaned back, studying him. “I have. You.”
Edward paused.
Christopher grinned. “You’re fascinating when you’re uncomfortable.”
“I am not uncomfortable.”
Christopher gestured vaguely toward the door they’d just closed. “You followed her with your eyes all the way down the stairs.”
Edward’s pen stilled.
“That,” Christopher continued lightly, “is new.”
Edward lifted his gaze. “Do not mistake observation for interest.”
“Of course,” Christopher said. “And do not mistake interest for indulgence.”
Edward exhaled through his nose. “Pray, restrain yourself.”
“I am restrained,” Christopher replied. “Entirely. You haven’t looked at a woman that way since—”
“Finish that sentence,” Edward said quietly, “and you will regret it.”
Christopher studied him for a moment longer, then inclined his head. “Very well.”
Silence settled, not strained, but thoughtful.
Christopher broke it first. “She’s young.”
Edward’s jaw tightened. “She is capable.”
“I didn’t say otherwise.”
“And she is an employee in my household,” Edward added. “Nothing more.”
Christopher’s expression softened, teasing giving way to something more perceptive. “Then why does she trouble you?”
Edward did not answer at once.
Because she laughed where the house had forgotten how. Because Julian smiled at her as though she were a door he hadn’t known he was allowed to open. Because she spoke to Edward as if he were not carved from marble, but flesh.
He said instead, “You should stop encouraging Miss Bennet’s attentions.”
Christopher smiled faintly. “Ah. There it is. Concern.”
Edward leaned back in his chair. “It would serve you well to take something seriously. Your estate. Your future.”
“And yours?” Christopher asked.
Edward’s eyes narrowed.
“How long,” Christopher continued, “do you intend to live as a recluse?”
Edward’s voice cooled. “I fulfill my obligations.”
“Yes,” Christopher said. “You bury yourself in them.”
Edward looked away.
