When he’d seen Dimity’s hand being kissed by that French wastrel, his anger had been swift. Seeing someone other than him touch her had every muscle in his body clenching. Not that he’d touched her in any way that truly satisfied him, but that another might had made his skin hot.
He’d wanted to storm to their table and haul the dandy to his feet, then shake him and his lace cuffs. Instead, he’d remained where he was until he was under control. He was an earl, for pity’s sake. They didn’t create scenes in public—unless, it seemed, he was in the presence of Dimity Brown.
Looking at her seated across from him, he wondered how she could infuriate and arouse him at the same time. Dressed in buttercup yellow, the material covered in small blue flowers, she looked so sweet, his teeth gritted.
This woman was becoming a problem for Gabe; he just wasn’t sure what to do about it. Perhaps Diard would help him there. If they were a couple, then— No! Everything inside him revolted at that prospect.
“Thank you,” he said to the woman who placed the food and tea before them. Dimity’s stomach rumbled, which made him laugh.
“Forgive me.” She flushed with color, looking young and sweet. A facade, he knew, but she looked it just the same.
“As you know, I live with my brothers, and they have absolutely no manners. A small stomach rumbling does not offend my sensibilities.”
He reached to pour the tea.
“I can do that.”
“As can I.” He continued to do so. “I am served constantly; it does not harm me in any way to do the same for others occasionally.”
She looked at him, her head tilting slightly to the side, as if to study him.
“What?”
“Now that you are no longer angry, and I’m not sure why you were, you appear different today.”
“From?” He wasn’t going to explain why he was angry.
“The earl I know. You appear more relaxed in your shirt sleeves and less….” Her words fell away.
“Earlish?”
“I don’t think that’s a word.” She frowned, and he wanted to stroke the line between her eyes that had formed.
“My sister thinks it is. Does it offend you that I am wearing no jacket, Dimity?”
“Of course not. I just don’t know why you don’t have one on. I mean, it is not like you, and you are not near your home, and….” Her words fell away.
Gabe liked that she was off-balance around him, because he felt the same.
“I keep a room not far from here, Dimity. A place that I go when I want absolute silence and privacy; not an easy state to achieve with three brothers.”
He’d shocked her now. Clearly, a man who had as many rooms in his house as he did could find a place there for privacy. In her eyes it would be seen as indulgence, yet another place to call his own, when families lived in one-room houses and struggled.
“So, this is where you come to be you?” she said softly. “An escape from the demands of your family and title?”
Now it was he who was surprised. “I thought you’d mock me.”
“For owning yet another residence?” Her brow rose.
“Yes.” Gabe picked up the sandwich on his plate and took a large bite.
“I don’t like people judging me, so I will not judge you.” She nibbled on her sandwich.
“Is this a new rule? Because I’m sure you’ve been judging me since the first day we met.”
“As you have constantly judged me,” she said without her usual fire.
He raised his teacup. “Shall we call a truce to aid our digestion?”
