Lise felt her cheeks warm at that remark.
Lord Bowen’s gaze flicked to her once more, before returning to Lady Hartwell’s face, dropped to her breasts, then up to her face again.Lise could hardly blame the man.
“I find both environments have their merits.Which is a good thing since my home is here but my work requires spending a great deal of time in the countryside.”
“Well said.”Lady Hartwell’s laugh was forced.“Have you considered becoming a diplomat?”She ran her hand down his arm.“You could be one of the King’s most skilled ambassadors.”Then she cocked her head.“Although I suspect you secretly prefer London above all else.Plenty of things to study here, among all the pleasures.”
Lord Bowen’s eyes widened at the widow’s words.
“Actually,” Lise said before she could stop herself, “it is to his lordship’s credit that he spends time in the field, as the most accurate maps are made by those who’ve walked the ground they’re charting.”
Lord Bowen’s mouth quirked.“Miss von Ostenfeld is correct.The best mapmaking requires direct observation.She and I have seen the errors made from secondhand knowledge.”
How kind of him to include her as if they were colleagues.
“Utterly fascinating,” Lady Hartwell said, while clearly meaning the opposite.“Personally, I think it’s time you stopped this direct observation, traveling hither and yon.”She looked to Lady Castleton for support.But Lord Bowen’s mother said nothing.
“Surely a viscount shouldn’t be scrambling around in pastures and on hills,” Lady Hartwell continued.“I know my late husband never did anything of the kind.You have assistants, do you not?”
“I prefer to do it myself,” Lord Bowen insisted.“As I said, secondhand reports cannot be trusted for precision work.”
“How veryin the muck, as they say.”Lady Hartwell managed to make it sound vaguely scandalous.“But you are an earl’s son.”
Lord Bowen nodded.“I never forget that fact, my lady.”
Someone made a small sound that might have been a suppressed laugh, and Lise looked to her right.Listening in, smiling broadly was Lord Bowen’s father.
“Being my son ought not to feel like a jail sentence,” Lord Castleton reminded those at his table.“At present, Jonathan has far more freedom than I do, and he ought to enjoy it.”
“Within reason,” came Lady Castleton’s voice from Lise’s left.“And with all due caution.”Spoken like a true mother, worrying over her son.
A handsome son named Jonathan.It suited him, Lise thought.
“I try to be both reasonable and cautious, Mother.Some areas are far more challenging to map than others,” Lord Bowen pointed out.“Particularly coastal mapping, what with the tides and shifting sandbanks.Those maps require constant updating.”
“The Travemünde approaches, for instance,” Lise spoke up.“To my understanding, they have changed significantly in the past decade.”She spoke only to him, no longer noticing the rest of the dinner guests.
His gaze met hers across the table again, and something interesting flickered in their gray depths.Her insides heated and softened like a beeswax candle.
“Indeed, they have,” Lord Bowen said.“I’m sure your country’s mapmakers are aware of the matter.Navigation is especially important during times of war.”Then he smiled.“How clever of you to know about such matters.”
Lise shrugged, sensing that her cheeks were red under his scrutiny and his compliment.Into the momentary silence that seemed to echo up and down the table, the Countess of Castleton asked a question about the availability of food in Holstein and whether Lise’s mother had a garden.
Grateful for the interest, Lise turned to her.They chatted while the table was cleared and the second course was set.Then, as others picked up the mantle of safe conversation, Lise hid a yawn behind her hand, knowing it was the height of rudeness.Unfortunately, all the heavy food made her sleepy.That and the endlessly refilled wineglass.
A peek in Lord Bowen’s direction confirmed what she feared.He’d seen her.Now he grinned and pretended to yawn as well.She had to look away or burst out laughing.
Amazed to see the dishes before her were even heartier than the first course, she ignored the roast beef, instead taking a slice of pigeon pie and more roasted vegetables.When she looked at his lordship again, he crossed his eyes so quickly she couldn’t be certain she’d seen it.Except she knew she had.
The gentleman beside her insisted on regaling her with his opinion of every place he’d ever been to outside of Britain, and thus, she was captured for the entirety of the second course.Occasionally, however, she looked over to see that Lord Bowen was alternately in conversation with his sister-in-law on one side or Lady Hartwell on the other.
The latter female made him laugh twice, not that Lise was counting, and kept his attention firmly on her person —andon her ample breasts — well until the third course was set.Again, she could hardly blame him for looking at what was pushed so mercilessly in front of him.
The next course was dessert.The plates and platters of colorful sweetmeats were interspersed with beautifully crafted sugar ribbons.Despite having already partaken of jellies and creamy custards during the main courses, Lise ate a small share of sliced pears, a macaroon, a few sugared almonds, and one ratafia cake.She eschewed the candied fruits and the ubiquitous caraway comfits.
Third dinner party and third time she’d been served them.Basically, sugar and more sugar.She wanted to lie down.
While she nibbled a diamond-shaped piece of quince paste that had snuck its way onto her plate, her glance went tohisside of the table once more.Lord Bowen looked back at her with undisclosed interest.
