Caleb leaned closer to her and whispered, “I should have warned you about my sister. She tends to make our guests uncomfortable with her brazen speech.”
“I can hear you, Brother,” Lady Roswell said.
“Good, because I said it loud enough for you to hear,” Caleb bantered back.
Simone laughed, finding the banter between Caleb and Lady Roswell thoroughly amusing.
With a biscuit in her hand, Lady Roswell asked, “Where are Roswell and the rest of the gentlemen?”
“They are coming,” Caleb replied. “I snuck out to ensure that you were behaving around Miss Delacourt.”
Lady Roswell placed her hand to her chest, feigning outrage. “Of course I was,” she declared. “I was on my best behavior.”
Caleb narrowed his eyes playfully at his sister. “I doubt that.”
“You did call Miss Delacourt boring,” Lady Oxley pointed out.
Lady Roswell didn’t look the least bit ashamed by what her mother revealed. “Yes, I did, but that is because she tried to pass off poetry as interesting. We all know that it is not.”
“Just because you don’t like something, doesn’t mean everyone else has to,” Caleb said.
Lord Roswell entered the room and remarked, “You are wasting your breath, Caleb. Anette has a strange aversion to poetry.” He walked over to his wife and kissed her on the cheek. “Hello, my love. Did you miss me?”
Lady Roswell nodded. “You, I missed. My brother, not so much.”
Simone’s father stepped into the room and sought her gaze out. “Shall we depart?”
“I thought we were staying for some games?” Simone asked, attempting to keep the disappointment off her features.
A look of disapproval came to his face. “I have work that I need to see to, and I don’t have time for card games.”
Rising, Simone said, “Very well, Father.”
Caleb had risen when she had and offered his arm. “Allow me to escort you to the door.”
“Thank you,” she said, placing her hand on his sleeve.
Lady Oxley rose. “Thank you for coming this evening. I enjoyed getting to know you better.”
“Likewise, my lady.” Simone shifted her gaze to Lady Roswell. “If you are still interested in learning how to throw daggers…”
“I am.”
“… then you must come by tomorrow afternoon for a lesson,” Simone said.
Lady Roswell beamed. “I shall be there.”
Caleb started leading Simone towards the main door and asked in a hushed voice, “How is my hair? Is the brushing still acceptable?”
Her lips twitched. “It is more than acceptable.”
“Good,” he replied. “I shall ensure it is brushed forward properly tomorrow when I arrive for our carriage ride.”
“I shall be looking forward to it.”
Caleb stopped by the door and turned to face her. “Thank you for coming this evening,” he said.
“It would have been rude for us to not accept the dinner invitation.”
