“Who was it from?”
She smiled at him sweetly. “None of your business.”
Derek took another slow sip of wine. “Let me guess. Berkeley?”
She widened her eyes. “How did you—? Oh very well, it was from Lord Berkeley.” If Derek was going to be jealous over Christian—ooh, the thought of his given name sent a little thrill through her—then he may as well know the man was quite interested in her. Quite.
“Why can’t I picture Berkeley sitting down to write a letter?” Derek said, setting his wine glass aside and leaning forward to pop a grape into his mouth.
Lucy put her hands on her hips. “That just shows how much you know. His letter was beautifully written.”
“Beautifully?” he asked, a sardonic expression on his handsome face.
Lucy longed to wipe it off. “Yes, beautifully. He’s obviously extremely well educated, not to mention humorous, wise, and witty.”
“Witty?” Derek’s eyebrows shot up. “Wiseandwitty?”
She nodded. “Yes. Extremely witty.”
“I may have to read this letter.” He popped another grape into his mouth.
“You most certainly may not.” She cut two pieces off the end of the loaf of bread, placing one slice onto a plate for herself and the other on Derek’s plate.
His grin was unrepentant. “Careful, Lucy, you don’t want your sharp tongue to scare this one off.”
Lucy narrowed her eyes on him. “I’ve been doing an excellent job of keeping my tongue in check around Lord Berkeley, Your Grace. It’syouI have trouble being cordial to.”
“Don’t I know it?”
Did he just wink at her?
“I can’t help it,” Lucy replied. “Some of the things I say… I’ve always been blunt. It’s been a curse since birth. Well, since childhood at least.”
His intense green eyes narrowed on her. “Why since childhood? What happened?”
“It doesn’t matter.” She shook her head and reached for a cluster of dark purple grapes.
“I’d like to know,” he answered softly.
Something about the tender way he said it made Lucy want to answer him. She pushed a grape into her mouth and chewed and swallowed thoughtfully. “I… my brother died when we were children.”
A small spark of surprise flashed through his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he replied, still looking at her intently. “Is that who you were speaking of, who you’d lost, that day we went riding in Hyde Park?”
Lucy nodded.
“What happened to him?” Derek’s voice was solemn.
Lucy looked away. It made her a bit uneasy. For the first time in her life, she felt as if someone was actually listening to her. Truly listening. The way Derek looked at her, kept his attention focused on her, asked her these difficult questions. No one had ever seemed to truly care before. It was a bit disconcerting.
She took a deep breath. She hadn’t shared this story with anyone. Well, Garrett, and Cass, and Jane knew of course, but she hadn’t told anyone else. Not ever. “We both got the fever. We were sick for months. Ralph died. I survived.”
Derek nodded solemnly. “I’m sorry, Lucy,” he murmured again.
Lucy took a sip of her wine. “Yes, well. The wrong child died. At least as far as my parents were concerned.”
Derek cursed softly under his breath. His gaze captured hers. “You can’t mean that.”
She glanced away, unable to meet his eyes. “It’s all right. I knew they wanted my brother to live. And believe me, I would have traded places with him if I could have.”
