A man cleared his throat, and Hannah knew without looking that it was Noah. “Miss Gibbons,” he said.
She took a moment to swallow her minuscule bite of fruit, licking her teeth to be sure nothing was stuck in their grooves. “Yes, Lord Noah?” She forced her gaze up, even though she was loath to do so.
Noah ran a finger under his collar and cleared his throat again. “This is Miss Lewiston.” He threw a hand in her general direction but wouldn’t lift his eyes from the plate he held. “Miss Lewiston, this is Miss Gibbons.” And then his eyes finally dragged up to hers. “Miss Lewiston begged for an introduction.”
Miss Lewiston laughed. “You make me sound desperate. I had only wanted to meet the newest resident of Warthford. I cannot handle not knowing everyone. And another young woman whom I can befriend?” She put a hand to her chest, her smile wide and brilliant . . . and most presumptive. “I simply had to have an introduction. It took Noah long enough to stop dragging his feet and do it. Had we not come across you here and now I fear he never would have.”
Hannah clenched her teeth over Miss Lewiston’s casual use of Noah’s name, especially in front of a crowd of people. “LordNoah has spoken of me?” It might have been petty, but Hannah was not in a particularly caring mood.
Noah looked at the floor and pursed his lips as if he was biting his tongue.
“Oh, yes,” Margaret continued, undeterred. “Every time I’ve seen him since my return, he’s had a story to tell of you. And I assure you, I have heard many.”
Mr. Swinton leaned toward Hannah. “You and Lord Noah are friends, I take it?” His heated tone as he spoke, while plopping more fruit onto Hannah’s plate, was unexpected.
Hannah looked at him with wide eyes. Was the man jealous? She hardly knew him!
“And I am so grateful you were able to keep him company in my absence,” Margaret said with a wide smile. “He mentioned you are much like a sister to him.”
Hannah felt like she was watching a squash match with the way her head was whipping back and forth—and whip her head did, first toward Miss Lewiston for her comment, then to Noah to see what he had to say for himself.
Noah’s eyes widened, and he turned his attention to Miss Lewiston. “I am quite certain I did not use those words.”
Margaret waved her hand, as if the exactness of his words were a superfluous detail. “No, not in those exact words. I made the conclusion based upon what you said.”
Hannah ground her teeth, taking calming breaths so she didn’t do something rash—something like removing her glove and slapping Margaret across her presumptuous, conceited lips. It really was too bad there was a table of food between them.
“I didn’t say you were like a sister.” Noah turned to Hannah with panic in his eyes. “I swear it.”
And then a pettiness welled up within Hannah. She stared pointedly at the plate Noah was preparing. “Miss Lewiston, do you not care for sweets?” Hannah knew for a fact she did not.
“I try to be wary of such delicacies. While fine in moderation, a lady must always watch her figure.”
Hannah batted her lashes, giving Miss Lewiston a sweet smile before turning to Mr. Swinton. “I would like three of the sweet rolls please.”
He gaped at her. “Thr—”
“Yes,” she said, interrupting him. “Three.” Hannah glared over at Miss Lewiston.
The young woman raised her brow and gave her shoulders a quick shrug. “To each their own, I suppose.”
Noah stood with his hand to his head, rubbing his brow. Hannah couldn’t quite tell if he was fighting a smile or a headache. Perhaps it was both. He then took a small raisin tart and shoved the entirety of it into his mouth.
“Goodness, you must be hungry.” Miss Lewiston put a hand to Noah’s arm.
He gave the tart a few more chews before swallowing. “Yes.”
“Perhaps I shall break my rule for tonight, since it is so special. Would you get me a raisin tart as well? They do look delicious.”
Noah took a long breath, then reached for the sweet that Miss Lewiston was suddenly craving after declaring she ate no such thing. He moved to set the tart on Miss Lewiston’s plate, but paused when she closed her eyes, tilted her chin up, and opened her mouth.
Mr. Swinton’s mouth dropped open, Hannah’s eyes bulged, and Noah looked as if he hadn’t quite processed what was happening—his hand hovering in the air with the raisin tart as his gaze flicked from Miss Lewiston to her plate.
Before Hannah could stop and consider, she plucked a raisin from a tart on her plate and tossed it directly at Miss Lewiston’s open mouth.
Unfortunately, Miss Lewiston must have realized Noah was not about to entertain her ridiculous request, for she began to close her mouth—which meant Hannah’s raisin, though expertly aimed, bounced off Miss Lewiston’s lip and fell to the tablecloth.
She spun toward Hannah. “Excuse me.” Her eyes were fire, and she lifted her fan, pointing it at Hannah as if she were wielding a weapon. “Did you just throw that at me?”
