Another pause. She auditioned various responses—Oh, I didn’t see you there,Lookat this, here we are, If you’ll excuse me—but said nothing.
He continued, “Perhaps you failed to see me sitting at the head of the table.”
She could not admit to this and said nothing.
He prompted, “I wasn’t sure if you were aware.”
“Oh yes,” she said, “I am aware.”
Stupid, silly girl.
This was always going to be part of working with families, she reminded herself. Speaking with fathers and uncles and brothers and guardians. She could not be missish and she could not . . . imagine them without shirts.
“Are you...” he tried to guess, “...so dumbfounded by my nieces that you cannot bear to look at any of us, myself included?”
“Oh no, Your Grace,” she assured. She forced herself to pivot to him.
He was reclining in a balanced sort of lean, his chair propped on two legs. His boots were on the table, crossed at the ankle. This had been the thumping noise.
Lovely, she thought,casual repose.
Now that she’d looked at him, she found herself unable to look away.
“Should I apologize for Imogene?” he asked, rocking slightly back and forth on his balanced chair. “I feel compelled to apologize, but I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
“Oh no. I am unaffected by Imogene.”And I am unaffected by you.
“Hmm,” he said, his voice a tumbled sort of growling sound.
Unaffected, she repeated slowly in her mind.
Suddenly, three footmen pushed into the room, laughing at a joke. They’d thought the room was unoccupied, clearly. When they saw the duke, they came up short.
“I beg your pardon, Your Grace,” said the oldest footman; followed by, “Oof” as his colleagues collided into his back.
“Come in, Barton,” the duke said, beckoning them with a tired wave. He slid his boots from the table and righted the chair with athwack.
“Balcony, Miss Trelayne?” he proposed, jabbing a thumb in the direction of glass-paned double doors in the rear of the dining room.
“Balcony?” she repeated dumbly.
“Just here. It was a deathtrap when I inherited, but never you fear. I’ve unsealed the doors and restored it. It overlooks the garden.”
“The garden,” she repeated. She sounded like a language student learning English.
“We’ll only be in Barton’s way if we remain.” He shoved from his chair.
“Yes,” she answered.
Yes, yes, yes.
Chapter Nine
Drewsmina Trelayne’s Rule of Style and Comportment #29: Balconies are for testing the weather, viewing parades, or the second act ofRomeo and Juliet. If you wish to take the air, descend to ground level and walk out any door.
The balcony presented three mildly troubling yet very exciting challenges for Drewsmina.
First challenge: the manner in which the duke held the door.
