Edwina shuddered. “I can’t even imagine how awful that would be.”
A somber expression crossed Lord Hilgrove’s face. “As awful as that was, it was nothing compared to the numerous rats we encountered on the Continent.”
“I’m sorry,” Edwina said, a sense of inadequacy lingering in her words.
“No, it is me that should apologize,” Lord Hilgrove remarked. “I should not have broached the subject of the war over supper, particularly with ladies present.”
Finding herself curious, Edwina asked, “What was the war like?”
Apparently, that was the wrong thing to ask because Lord Hilgrove stiffened, his once open countenance cloaked by the shadows of memory, and his eyes grew guarded. “I cannot explain in detail the depravity that I saw and the lives that were lost, some in such a senseless manner.”
Before Edwina could respond, her uncle interjected with a stern rebuke, “What were you thinking, Edwina? You can’t just ask someone about the war. That was rather thoughtless of you, considering ladies do not speak of such things.”
Edwina’s eyes grew downcast as she tried to pretend that her uncle’s words didn’t affect her so deeply. He was always so quick to chide her, too quick.
“Lady Edwina did nothing wrong, and I didn’t mean to imply as much,” Lord Hilgrove stated, coming to her defense. “War is a fascinating topic yet a harrowing subject, and I could understand why it piqued her interest.”
Bringing her gaze up, Edwina couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. This man she hardly knew had just defended her. In a soft voice, she said, “Thank you, my lord.”
Their eyes met again, and Edwina saw a kindness in his expression that carried over into his eyes. Though not quick to smile, there was a genuineness to him that she found captivating.
“Well, shall we eat our dessert?” her aunt asked.
Edwina lowered her gaze, feeling a subtle warmth creeping up her cheeks for having held Lord Hilgrove’s gaze for so long, as she reached for her spoon.
“We are playing a game of pall-mall tomorrow. Who would care to join us?” Bennett asked the table.
“We are?” Lord Hilgrove inquired.
Bennett nodded with enthusiasm. “Indeed, we are going to make you have fun here, whether you want to or not. We are a fun family.”
“I have a series of meetings all day tomorrow,” her uncle shared.
“And I have a fitting session with the dressmaker,” her aunt informed them. “Perhaps I shall join you, depending on the time you play.”
Bennett sighed theatrically. “It would seem that we are not as entertaining as we believe. We should be dubbed the ‘I am too busy to properly enjoy myself’ family.”
With a brief glance at Lord Hilgrove, Edwina said, “I will join you.”
“Wonderful,” Bennett declared. “However, we will need one more person to join us. Do you think your friend, Miss Bawden, would be interested in joining us?”
“I can ask,” Edwina responded.
“We shall play at dawn,” Bennett announced, emphasizing each word with a dramatic sweep of his hand.
“Dawn?” Lord Hilgrove raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “You don’t actually expect us to partake in a game at such an early hour?”
Bennett feigned a mock expression of disapproval. “Very well. We shall play after breakfast so my dandy friend here can sleep in.”
“I never said I sleep in,” Lord Hilgrove said.
“Don’t forget to don a cap this evening to preserve your impeccable hair,” Bennett teased. “We wouldn’t want your locks tousled for our pall-mall game.”
“You are a muttonhead,” Lord Hilgrove muttered.
Bennett placed a hand over his chest. “You insult me infront of the ladies?” he asked. “That isn’t very gentlemanly of you.”
“Well, I am sure they already know what a muttonhead you are,” Lord Hilgrove retorted.
