“Indeed, you were the master ofboth,” she agreed.“Little and less.If you wish to insult someone within their hearing, at least have the courtesy to say something truthful.”
Despite the burning embarrassment and the awareness that, by this time, anyone nearby had paused their conversations to observe and listen, Jonathan felt his mouth twitch.She was making an elephant from a fly, and taking him to task brilliantly.
“An excellent principle.I shall endeavor to apply it.”
“Please do.”She inclined her head a precise fraction of an inch, while her brother stood by and looked, for his part, mortified to be involved in this prickly conversation.
For Jonathan’s part, he was quite frankly fascinated by her.Even more so by her next words.
“Did you know there is a map hanging in this room” — she gestured with a wave of her right hand, without looking toward the one that had bothered him all evening — “that places the mouth of the Trave estuary a full three nautical miles too far south, and shows a non-existent deepwater channel near Travemünde?It would run any ship trusting it straight onto the rocks.”
His mouth had fallen open.He knew the map had inaccuracies, but he thought no one else would ever notice until the reign of Queen Dick.Which was, of course, never.
“My sister is quite knowledgeable about the geography of our region,” Henrik von Ostenfeld said softly.“A passion of hers.”
“So I gather,” Jonathan managed, hearing Finch make another sound of amusement.Damn him.The man was grinning into his wide, cut crystal glass.
Deciding he had best end this ridiculous scene, Jonathan addressed Henrik.
“To the purpose of accuracy, Lieutenant, Colonel Ashworth would like you and other members of the KGL to go over the maps in the library.”
“Of course, my lord,” Henrik said.Obviously sensing the necessity of moving on, he added, “Come along, Lise.”
Seemingly satisfied, she nodded.“Good evening, Lord Finchley, Lord Bowen.”
Even as Jonathan and Finch bowed, brother and sister turned and walked away.Lise seemed to glide effortlessly beside her tall, lumbering brother.How could Jonathan ever have thought her provincial?
“Well,” Finch said cheerfully.“That went splendidly.”
“Shut up.”
“Borrowed finery,” Finch added with a chuckle.“Really, Bowen, I expected better from you.”
“I said shut up.”
But Finch was right, and Jonathan knew it.He’d made a fool of himself, and worse, he’d been rude.The young woman’s rebuke had been entirely deserved.He was beyond impressed by the way she’d identified the map’s errors.
Looking over at it, then at the space where Miss von Ostenfeld had disappeared into the crowd, he shook his head.
“I need to review those coastal surveys with the Colonel.”His job would be to fill in the details wherever they lacked.
“Now?”Finch asked.“The dancing has barely begun.”
“Now.”Jonathan set the glass aside.“Before I make an even greater ass of myself.”
Finch’s words floated after him.“If that were possible.”
Wretch.
Chapter Two
Lise von Ostenfeld had engaged in a breach of good manners, and she knew it the moment the words had left her mouth.And then the next sentence and the one after that
She ought to have smiled coldly and walked away.She should have allowed the insult to slide over her like rain off an oiled canvas awning.She could have demonstrated the superior breeding he’d so clearly assumed she lacked by ignoring his existence entirely.
Instead, she’d gone toward the immensely handsome man like a moth to a flame, then recited her qualifications as if she were a schoolgirl desperate to impress a tutor.
“You were at your most outspoken this evening,” Henrik murmured as they moved through the crowd, his tone holding laughter.
