He snorted. “Are you saying if a maid turned up pregnant, she would not be cast off?”
Her mouth worked, and a red stain crawled up her cheeks. “Of all the crass subjects to broach. And what has that to do with—”
“What if a butler’s arthritis made his gait slow? More damning still, what if a governess or chambermaid proved too tempting?”
Her expression morphed with each additional question he threw at her. In rapid succession, her initial defensiveness and pique gave way to bemusement, then chagrin, then outright confusion, though through it all she seemed clear that he, by inference, had insulted her family.
“Tempting? Tempting for whom? No, do not answer that.” She held up one hand, palm out, and closed her eyes briefly in an obvious attempt to regain her composure. “I know what this is,” she said quietly, as if to herself. “Lady Caroline explained about the incident.” She shot him a glare. “Not that it excuses your abhorrent behavior.”
A moment ago, for a split second, guilt had pricked him. He’d gone too far, and he knew it. If his grandfather had witnessed his unspeakable rudeness, he’d give Sterling an ear lashing that would leave him temporarily deaf.
But with Annabelle’s mention of his sister, the apology on his lips died.
“What about my sister?”
Busy spooning up a portion of soup, she shook her head in dismissal. “Never mind.”
“I insist.” He articulated each word.
She put down her cutlery and met his eye. “When I asked her about”—scarlet bloomed over her cheeks, but she did not look away—“your statements about my family and…me, the afternoon of the betrothal party for her and Gaston, she explained that, due to an incident involving a friend of yours, you had developed a bias against certain members of thetonthatactually stems more from a misplaced sense of guilt rather than any actual wrongdoing by the upper class set whom you judge so harshly.”
Sterling blinked at her, stunned into momentary speechlessness.
Annabelle did not seem to require a response, however, as she picked up her spoon and resumed eating.
By God, she had said a mouthful. As for his sister—he would deal with her ridiculous assertion at his first opportunity. Guilt? He had no guilt in Dillon’s death—if, indeed, that was the incident to which she’d referred.
The fault for the so-called “incident” rested squarely on the shoulders of the woman who had played Dillon against another man, inviting the duel that took his friend’s life.
But he had no intention of defending himself to Lady Annabelle. None whatsoever.
“Are you saying you eavesdropped on my private conversation with my sister as I was leaving?” he asked instead.
Engaged in dipping her spoon, she clanged the utensil against the porcelain bowl. “I…came to see you out. I may have accidentally overheard a snippet of the conversation between you and Lady Caroline. One in which you disparaged Gaston and…my family.”
And her, hung in the air between them.
He snorted and resumed his own meal. “Eavesdroppers get what they get, my grandfather always said.”
Out of the periphery of his vision, he saw her pretty mouth curve into a pout before she schooled her features.
“She was wrong, by the way,” he added. “I do not feel any guilt over the deed, misplaced or otherwise.”
“As you say,” she murmured.
He sighed. Swiped his serviette over his mouth. “I apologize for my outburst. Earlier. I know nothing of your parents’ household management. I was unspeakably rude.”
“On multiple fronts,” she agreed.
And though her obvious satisfaction galled him, he could hardly protest. He nodded once.
In the awkward silence that followed, he rose, reached for her dinner plate, and filled it with a large portion of cod and asparagus, then plucked a dinner roll from the breadbasket and set it on her bread plate.
“Thank you,” she said as he served himself. “I appreciate your hospitality, under the circumstances.”
He sat, slanting her an amused glance before forking up a bite of flaky fish. “Think nothing of it,” he said. “Why should a little thing like being accused of complicity in your brother’s so-called suspicious death by an uninvited guest cause a man to withhold his welcome?”
Her lips twitched in response, and her tilted ocean blue gaze met his.
