He lifted a supercilious eyebrow. “Through the window and down the rose trellis?”
She waved a dismissive hand. “Coincidence. If you can answer three more questions about either Lady Evie or her brother correctly, I shall consider your identity established. If not…”
“If not?” he asked softly.
“Then you are a fraud, and I shall report you to Metternich himself.”
He bit back a smile. The girl certainly had spirit.
“What a terrifying prospect. Metternich, of course, would be vastly entertained by this farce. But very well.” He made a gesture. “Ask away. I shall do my best to prove my, err, authenticity to you.”
“Good.” She furrowed her brows and chewed on her lower lip as she thought. “A-ha, I have it. What are the names of the duke’s favourite hunting dogs?”
Julius did mention them now and then, as he was uncommonly fond of his retrievers. “Romulus and Remus.”
“Hm.” Her fingers drummed on the table, unimpressed. “Correct. Second question. When the duke eats his favourite food, jellies, does he prefer them to be filled with fruit or vegetables?”
She had him there. Julius never discussed food in his letters, and he had not had the opportunity to share a meal with him lately, so he would not know how he preferred to eat his jellies. But, knowing that his friend shared his own tastes and preferred savoury to sweet, he would wager on the savoury. “Vegetable jelly.”
Her eyes flashed triumphantly. “False! His Grace wouldn’t touch jelly with a ten-foot pole. He despises jelly, whether savoury or sweet. It was a trick question and you fell for it. Which only proves one thing: you are not Hartenberg after all.”
“I’ve never heard such nonsense,” he said irritably. “I answered one question correctly, in addition to my knowledge of Lady Evie’s escape habits from the school room. That ought to be sufficient.”
She shook her head. “One last question.” Her eyes narrowed to two slits. “This will determine whether you truly are who you say you are.” She took a big breath. “You claim you are Lady Evie’s betrothed. Very well. You havebeen engaged to her for a monstrously long time. Then surely you must know Lady Evie very well. Her preferences, her likes and dislikes. She must be very happy about the impending nuptials, hm? Surely you must know what she feels about it. She can barely wait to marry you and has her wedding dress designed already, the flowers chosen and the wedding breakfast planned. Yes?” She leaned forward and there was something glittering in her eyes. “What colour did she decide should be the theme of the wedding?”
How the devil should he know? She had him there. Good and tight. It might be black, for all he knew, and he certainly cared even less. Colour indeed! For, of course, he had not an inkling about what Lady Evie’s plans were. The best he could do was take a guess, and considering that he had been engaged to the lady for so long, it felt a shameful thing to have to do.
He rubbed the back of his neck.
The chit watched him closely, an odd sort of smile playing upon her lips. “You do not know the answer, do you?”
“The duke says?—”
“Who cares what the duke says? But what does Lady Evie feel? Really. Truly. In her heart.” She pounded a fist against her chest. “Surely she must be hopelessly in love with you.” The chit clasped her hands together and lifted her eyes to the ceiling. “Having waited for you so faithfully all those years. Not knowing what you even look like. How romantic it must be.”
“Hardly,” he said dryly. “I daresay she takes it like most women in her class who are expected to marry for name and rank. With fortitude, most likely.”
The girl’s hands dropped. “Fortitude.”
He shrugged. “Certainly. She is a duke’s sister. Shegrew up expecting an arranged marriage. The notion can hardly be new to her.”
“Fortitude.” She clenched her hands to fists.
He shrugged again. “Maybe more resignation. She appears to be of the stoic kind, with the strength and endurance to weather any situation life throws at her. I find that admirable, incidentally. It speaks of a strength of character. Is she happy about our engagement? Is anyone happy about having their life arranged due to class and circumstance? I don’t suppose so.”
She opened and closed her mouth like a fish.
“Am I right?”
“I confess I did not expect that answer,” she finally said after she’d found her words, and looked as though she saw him in an entirely new light. “So.” She cleared her throat. “We have strayed from the issue at hand. You have failed two questions, yet you have passed two, if we include the one you yourself posed regarding the governess. That makes it a pat. You could very well be an impostor, a very intelligent one, who is attempting to wheedle himself into Lady Evie’s life.”
“Nonsense. My name has been proven. I merely went along with you because I find it amusing.” He could hardly believe that he’d wasted half an hour on something as ridiculous as this conversation. How had it come to this?
Once more she stared at him. “You are an odd sort of person, do you know? Not at all old and doddering.”
He blinked. “I am gratified to hear it.”
She shook her head as if shaking her thoughts away. “But now I must go and nurse Lady Evie.” She jumped up.
