“It’s delicious, you know.” He closed his lips around the spoon and his eyelids dropped shut as he savored the sweet.
Don’t watch his mouth.
It was the fourth time since the soup course she’d had to remind herself not to stare at his lips. Confound the man. Did he have to look as if he experienced sensual delight with every bite? He even made the glazed carrots look enticing.
Eleanor dropped her gaze to her plate and tried not to think about cream and strawberries, sweet and slippery on his tongue. Tried not to think about his tongue at all, or anything else to do with his mouth. How unfair it that was such a detestable man should have such intriguing lips.
And such a ravenous appetite.
She poked at a strawberry with the tip of her spoon. It slid off the mountain of cream and landed on her plate with a wet plop. Not thatshefound his lips in any way distracting, of course. No, certainly not. Other ladies might sigh over those full lips. Other ladies might admire those sleepy green eyes, broad shoulders, and that long lock of wavy chestnut hair that fell across his forehead. They might think he was boyishly charming, but she knew better. She knew what a perfidious fiend lurked beneath all that smooth, tawny skin.
Still, in the purely objective sense of the word, Mr. West was handsome.
Damn him.
Alec touched his napkin to his lips, and placed the cloth next to his plate. “So. West. My sister tells me you’re in shipping.”
Eleanor looked up from her plate with renewed hope. This was a bit better, at least. Alec could be rather terrifying when he chose, especially if he thought a gentleman might be courting his sister. Perhaps he’d scare Mr. West away. At the very least, it would amuse Eleanor to watch her brother squeeze Camden West until trifle came out of his handsome ears.
Mr. West gave Alec a cool look. “Yes. That’s right.” He said no more, but fixed an oddly defiant gaze on Alec.
How curious. Did he think Alec would look down on him because he was in trade?
Eleanor shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Camden West, vulnerable? No, she didn’t care for that idea. It made him too human. She’d rather imagine his body covered in impenetrable scales or hard plates—then she needn’t worry about flinging barbs at him.
Not that she imagined his body at all, of course.
“How did you get into that line?” Alec asked. “Given your success now, you can’t have been very old when you started.”
Mr. West shrugged. “No. I was just thirteen when a friend of my father’s took me on as an apprentice. He ran goods between India and England, and eventually became a shareholder in the East India Company.”
Delia, who sat to Alec’s right, exclaimed at this. “Thirteen! My goodness. You don’t mean to say you went to India at age thirteen?”
Thirteen?Eleanor sat up straighter in her chair, curious despite herself to hear Mr. West’s answer. Why, at thirteen he’d have been no more than a boy.
“No, not so young as that, Lady Carlisle, though I was as foolish and headstrong as a thirteen-year-old boy when I did make my first overseas voyage.”
“When was that?” Eleanor asked, then wanted to bite her tongue out. Now he’d think she was interested in his answer. Well, she wasn’t. Not at all. She focused her gaze on her trifle, just in case some trick of the light made it look as if she were.
He stared at her, as if surprised she’d asked.
He couldn’t be more surprised than she was. Why should she care how old he’d been? She didn’t want to hear the man’s life story, for pity’s sake. She wouldn’t know him long enough for it to make any difference to her.
“I sailed to India when I was seventeen,” he said. “My employer had a large family and didn’t care to be away from England for such a long time himself, so he sent me in his stead to secure his interests abroad and expand his shares in the Company.”
Eleanor looked around the table to see everyone leaning forward, their trifle forgotten, their attention fixed on Mr. West. She snatched up her spoon and began to dish trifle into her mouth, though each bite tasted like soggy bits of paper. Fine. She’d rather swallow tasteless mush than admit anything about Mr. West’s story interestedher. She refused to allow him to be both handsome and entertaining.
“By God, that’s a lot of responsibility for such a young man.” There was no mistaking the awe in Robyn’s voice, or the look of admiration he gave Mr. West.
Oh, for God’s sake. Ellie rolled her eyes at the strawberry balanced on the end of her spoon. “Of courseyouwould say so, Robyn, given what you were doing at age seventeen.”
There was an astonished silence as every head at the table swung in her direction, and Robyn’s wife Lily, who was seated next to her husband, placed her hand over his.
Ellie stared at her lap. What was wrong with her? She never made hurtful comments like that. She could feel her family’s curious eyes on her, and her cheeks began to burn with shame. She was about to beg Robyn’s pardon when help came from the most unexpected quarter.
“It was a great deal of responsibility, yes, but I had the most tempting inducement to succeed.”
Just like that, everyone’s attention returned to Mr. West.
