“I think you would choose to be trapped in a carriage with me.” He gave his most charming smile. “I could entertain you easily enough.”
Prudence’s eyes rounded with delight, and she nearly spit out her lemonade.
“With conversation,” Lord Finchley added.
Prudence cast her gaze around the circle, drinking up every reaction.
“Also with song.” Lord Finchley flashed another grin. “My voice could put her nerves at ease, I am certain of it.” He seemed to be joking, but Sophia could never truly know. He was unpredictable in that way. Perhaps she simply didn’t understand his humor well enough yet.
Aunt Hester was so enraptured in the game that she hadn’t touched her plate for several minutes. Lord Finchley straightened his cravat, apparently very proud of his answer. Sophia would never be able to confirm it without feeling wildly improper. Surely he knew that. Was he forfeiting his point only to vex Isaac?
It seemed to be working. Isaac’s expression lacked the amusement of all the others. His brows were level, his mouth straight.
“It is your turn, Mr. Ellington,” Lord Finchley said, his voice more chipper than before. “Who do you think Miss Hale would choose?”
Sophia drew in a breath, but the air felt thick. Her nerves were on edge, and she was fairly certain that Lord Finchley’s singing voice would only make them worse.
“I think she would choose to be trapped in a carriage with her husband,” Isaac said. “Once he is in existence, of course.” He brushed casually at the knee of his trousers, but Sophia didn’t see anything there. His lashes cast a shadow over his cheek, hiding his eyes from her view. “After all, he will be the one she trusts most to deliver her to safety after the storm. He is the one she’s least likely to grow bored conversing with. Who better to be trapped with than the man she loves most?” He lifted his gaze, and Sophia’s heart tumbled like a boulder down the side of a cliff.
Aunt Hester applauded. “A clever answer, Mr. Ellington. If it were my own decision, I would most certainly choose my dear late husband. Who answered correctly, Sophia?”
“Prudence.” She was proud of how calm her voice sounded. “Though I would not object to any of your answers.” It seemed to be the safest way to reply without injuring Lord Finchley’s pride too severely.
“Fair enough.” Lord Finchley bowed his head in mock disappointment before lifting it again with a grin. Thankfully he didn’t seem offended at all. He seemed only pleased that Isaac’s answer hadn’t been chosen.
“That leaves me with two points,” Prudence said. “I need only one more!”
“Would you like to pose a question, Mr. Ellington?” Aunt Hester asked.
Sophia’s shoulders stiffened. Isaac’s eyes met hers, and he finally seemed to recognize her discomfort. It had taken him long enough.
He paused in contemplation for a long moment. “What is one food Sophia would never taste, even if she were offered a sum of five hundred pounds?”
A relieved laugh escaped her throat.
“Jellied eels,” Lord Finchley said. “Even the scent is enough to make my stomach turn.”
Prudence grinned wickedly. “A cashew.”
Isaac’s face broke into a smile. “Stargazey pie.”
Sophia laughed. She could still see the pie rolling down the cliffside like a wheel of cheese.
Aunt Hester gave a triumphant smile before giving her answer. “Flora and Thistle stew.”
Prudence gasped. She looked like she might throw her plate at their aunt. Sophia burst into laughter. She struggled to catch her breath. “I’m sorry Prudence, but I’m afraid I cannot spare your poor dogs. I would rather avoid a cashew. You’ve won.”
The look of pure outrage on Prudence’s face faded at the announcement of her victory. She joined Sophia’s laughter, all evidence of her sour mood gone. “I suppose I’ll forgive you.”
Sophia would have chosen the stargazey pie, but she was desperate for the game to be over. If she could help it, she woulddo all she could to ensure Isaac and Lord Finchley never met again, in fact.
“I’ve heard of cashews,” Lord Finchley said, throwing Sophia a curious look. “What about them repulses you?”
“They are rather dangerous. Mr. Ellington was poisoned by one. It made him quite ill.”
Lord Finchley’s mouth lifted on one side. “That is unfortunate. A matter of a weak constitution, perhaps?”
Isaac’s smile looked forced. “I invite you to try one sometime, my lord.”
