On the evening of the move, they all dined together and convened in the drawing room, as though they never left. Grace kept her behaviour strictly professional. Any attempt at banter from Mr Stone was swiftly quashed. She prided herself on maintaining an aloof manner, despite his persistent efforts at conversation.
Eventually, he took the hint and directed his light-hearted humour toward Heather and Mrs Merriweather instead. They, in turn, became grateful recipients, responding in kind.
Yet as hours passed, Grace began to feel... left out. She reassured herself that this was for the best. On one occasion, she studiously focused on her knitting while the lively conversation swirled around her.
‘Do you have any family, Mr Stone?’ Mrs Merriweather asked.
‘I have a brother and a sister.’
‘Where are they now?’ Heather asked.
‘In London.’
‘How did you become Lord Armitage’s man of business?’ Heather had gotten over her initial shyness and became persistent. She had made it her mission to uncover as much as possible about Mr Stone, interrogating him sporadically throughout the evening.
He remained unruffled.
‘I was asked to assist in the investigations,’ was his only reply.
Grace had wondered the same thing.Perhaps he is a Bow Street Runner...
‘Have you travelled much?’
‘To many places.’
‘Are you married?’
Mr Stone’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he met Grace’s gaze. ‘No, madam, I am not married.’
Heather beamed triumphantly.
‘Heather, stop prying. It is rude to intrude on someone’s personal affairs,’ Mrs Merriweather admonished.
Grace, however, was intrigued. A devil-may-care attitude settled upon her, and she picked up where Heather left off, though she was a little more subtle.
‘At least you can tell us about your travels, Mr Stone. Which country would you say was the most dangerous?’
‘Just like you, Miss Skye, to ask about the most dangerous place rather than the loveliest,’ he chuckled. But this time, he didnot seem averse to answering. ‘I would say anywhere touched by war is always dangerous. Napoleon was not playing games in France.’
‘You were in the army...’ Grace realised his athleticism likely stemmed from a military background.
He nodded, his expression turning grim.
Heather leaned forward, enthralled. ‘Did you fight in any battles? Were you wounded? Did you—’
‘War is not a topic for young, innocent ears, Miss Heather,’ he interrupted gently. ‘It is a brutal affair, and I would not wish my memories of it on anyone.’
Then, with a smile, he smoothly changed the subject.
Grace remained thoughtful as the conversation moved on. Mr Stone’s reluctance to discuss his past intrigued her. A military background explained much about his controlled demeanour, his discipline, and his unwavering composure. But whatexactlyhad he endured during the war?
It was clear he would not say more on the subject.
Instead, he smoothly redirected the discussion. ‘It is now time to interrogate you, Miss Heather.’
‘I am ready.’ She giggled.
‘What are your interests?’
