“I was vulgar,” Lise corrected.Her cheeks burned.
“You put an arrogant English lord in his place.”
That part gave her a measure of satisfaction.
“Although a good sort of man,” Henrik added, “At least that was my impression on prior meeting.”
A good sort of man.Oh dear!All she knew was that Lord Bowen had the most intriguing gray eyes, which had widened in genuine mortification when he’d realized she had not only overheard but was going to confront him.During her impolite tirade, they’d shone alternately with shame and amusement.
His features might have served a sculptor of antiquity, his well-formed mouth snagging and holding her attention.Grim when she’d approached, it had quirked into a slight smile, before being stunned to slackness by her criticism of the massive framed map with its even more massive inaccuracies.
But she could’ve wished the entire incident hadn’t happened.Then, perhaps, he might have asked her to dance.As it was, she’d probably cowed every man within hearing and would be no one’s partner that night.
“The viscount won’t take it to heart,” Henrik said into her continued silence.“After all, he resides in the ethereal uppermost rung of Britain’s social ladder.Besides, I’ve heard that Lord Bowen’s mapmaking skills are second to none, and I’m sure he knows it.Personally, I’m grateful he’s going to be assisting our cause.A most unusual man to be both heir to an earldom while also being useful to society.”
Then her brother reached for two glasses of champagne and handed one to her.“Moreover, he went out of his way to apologize to you for his mistake.Did you notice?”
She had noticed altogether too much.The way his dark hair fell across his forehead, making her want to reach up and tame it.Or at least run her fingers through it.The fine lines at the corners of his eyes that suggested he smiled more often than he frowned.His mouth —
No!She would not think about his perfect mouth again.
“I noticed,” she said at last.“But I doubt his mapmaking abilities will help him break the French blockade from the safety of his London residence.You and our fellow countrymen will be tramping across the Continent, trying to protect who and what we love.Nothing is more admirable than that.”
Her brother beamed under her praise but reminded her, “Many British soldiers not only stand with us, but are willing to fight to the death when the King gives his order.But you can’t expect a nobleman who will one day be an earl to risk his life as a soldier.”
She shrugged.“You will be head of our family one day, and yet you risk your life.”Lise didn’t want to think about that day as their father was in outstanding health.“If Lord Bowen is such a superb mapmaker, the least he could do was demand that monstrosity on the wall be removed.”
Henrik glanced toward the disputed map in its gold frame.“You’re certain about the errors?”
“Henrik!”She stopped and looked at him.“How many times have we sailed past Travemünde?How many summers did we spend exploring the shore?”
“I merely thought in London, Lise, at a ball, perhaps you might —”
“Might what?Pretend to be less than I am?”she demanded, wishing Lord Bowen hadn’t made her lose her temper.
Her brother had the grace to look abashed.“The map is obviously decorative and not meant to guide anyone.”Then he shook his head and looked around at the throng.“Besides, you should stop taking everything so seriously.An uncongenial pastime on such a night as this.You’re supposed to smile and nod and look lovely.”
“I’m not a vase.”
“No, you’re a guest of this country and a woman who just publicly humiliated an earl’s son.”Henrik’s tone was mild, but his meaning was clear.“I’m not criticizing, Lise.I’m merely noting that subtlety might serve you better than confrontation.”
“He called me a forest sprite.”
“He called you several things, none of which you were meant to hear.”Henrik touched her elbow gently to get her walking again.“I’m not defending him.His words were careless and unkind.But you might have simply cut him with a look and walked away.Instead, you engaged.”
“You sound like Mama.”
“I don’t know about that.”He smiled.“Where do you think you inherited that tongue?”
Occasionally, there mother could be … forthright.But Lise wished she hadn’t just inherited a tongue.She wished she’d held it.
“You’re right.I should have been more composed,” she admitted.
Her brother guided her toward a cluster of matrons whose feathered coiffures bobbed like exotic birds.When the ladies noticed and welcomed Lise, Henrik started to edge away.
Panicking for an instant, she demanded, “Where are you going?”
“I want to study the maps in the library as his lordship suggested.And maybe I’ll enjoy a dance or two.I suggest you do the same.”
