Lady Fairleigh rose briefly to instruct the maid regarding fresh lemon slices, leaving them momentarily alone. The silence that followed was almost impossible to bear.
“You called at Ravensmere yesterday,” he said. “My staff alerted me to it.”
Her eyes lifted at once.
“Yes. I did.”
“I regret that I was absent.”
“So I was told.”
Her tone revealed nothing.
“I was otherwise occupied.”
“So I was told,” she repeated.
“Did you not wish to leave a message?” he asked.
“No.”
“Why not?”
She held his gaze evenly.
“If it were important, I would have.”
The phrasing was deliberate. He recognized it. She did not elaborate, but she did not need to. She considered her troubles unimportant, and he had not acted in a manner that would prove the contrary.
He regarded her steadily.
“If you wish to ask something, ask it.”
Her gaze flickered briefly toward the doorway through which her mother had disappeared.
“You were not at home,” she said.
“No.”
“You did not say where you would be.”
“I was not aware I was required to report my movements.”
The answer was calm, but he heard the edge in it and regretted it at once. Even so, she did not retreat.
“I did not say you were required,” she replied evenly. “I only said that you did not do it.”
A pause settled between them.
“I was engaged elsewhere,” he said more carefully.
“With someone?” she asked.
There it was. He could have deflected, and to do so was tempting, but he did not.
“Yes.”
She absorbed that without a visible reaction, though he saw the faint tightening at the corner of her mouth.
