amiss—or at least anything more than she’d already noticed was amiss. Keeping this from Emma was going to be harder than she’d imagined, particularly if Rupert continued acting out of character.
Honestly, what does he think he is doing? He was the one, after all, who was so emphatic about keeping their affair a secret. Obviously he didn’t have a proper sense of caution. Then again, maybe he’d taken a blow to the head last night, sometime between leaving the party and arriving at the breakfast table? she speculated with a bit of wry humor.
Deciding that keeping herself occupied was the best strategy for now, she crossed to the buffet and took a plate out of the warmer. She lifted the lid off the first silver chafing dish, only to quickly put it back.
Steak and kidney pie.
She wrinkled her nose in distaste. She detested offal of any kind—heart, liver, kidneys, pancreas—organ meats always sent her appetite scurrying away. She didn’t understand why anyone wanted to eat such things. Although she had to admit that in her youth, she’d been subjected to worse fare, such as pickled fish served in a variety of brines and sauces.
It was bad enough being subjected to such ghastly dishes in the evening, but for breakfast . . .
She gave another inward grimace.
“The blood sausage is quite delicious,” said a smooth, deep voice beside her. “May I offer you a serving?”
She startled. How had Rupert crept up on her without her being aware? She hadn’t even heard him approach.
She shot him a withering look. “No. You know I detest such fare.”
“Kippers, then?” he inquired blithely, even though she could see the evil glint in his eyes. “I am certain you’ll want two or three at the very least.”
“I don’t want any,” she said quietly, “as well you know. Are you deliberately trying to annoy me this morning?”
“I am only trying to shake you out of your nerves. You’re tense as a fox in a ring full of hounds. If you keep this up, my sister will be interrogating you until you break.”
She resisted the urge to turn around and see if Emma was indeed watching them. “Well, she’s bound to wonder regardless, since you suddenly decided to grace us with your presence this morning. What were you thinking?”
“Actually, I decided it would be easier in future if we are openly seen to have laid aside the old gauntlet between us. A better rapport seems wise under the circumstances, particularly since we will be spending a great deal more time in each other’s company.”
Her brows drew close and she lowered her voice to barely above a whisper. “I cannot see why that should be necessary. Nothing has to change between us except . . . well, you know.”
His lips twisted sardonically. “Ah, so you just want me to sneak into your room at night, have my way with you, and then leave, hmm ?”
She held back a gasp. “Well, not precisely, but something close. We hardly need to live in each other’s pockets, I should think.”
“I’ve found that taking a lover is far more enjoyable when it’s about more than sex. Which I would be happy to teach you if you would but follow my direction.”
Before she could open her mouth to debate the point, he lifted the lid off another chafing dish. “The ham is very good,” he said in a carrying voice. “Allow me to cut you a slice.”
Aware that they had been whispering together far too long, she held out her plate and waited for him to carve.
“And a scone as well,” he suggested, indicating a cloth-covered basket nearby.
Resigned, she took a scone.
“Eggs?” he inquired, after he had laid the ham on her plate.
Her lips tightened since she knew she would never be able to eat half the food he was insisting she take.
He laughed and spooned a generous helping of golden scrambled eggs next to the rest of her meal.
“What are the two of you talking about over there?” Emma called. “Something interesting, I hope.”
Ariadne sent him a
Honestly, what does he think he is doing? He was the one, after all, who was so emphatic about keeping their affair a secret. Obviously he didn’t have a proper sense of caution. Then again, maybe he’d taken a blow to the head last night, sometime between leaving the party and arriving at the breakfast table? she speculated with a bit of wry humor.
Deciding that keeping herself occupied was the best strategy for now, she crossed to the buffet and took a plate out of the warmer. She lifted the lid off the first silver chafing dish, only to quickly put it back.
Steak and kidney pie.
She wrinkled her nose in distaste. She detested offal of any kind—heart, liver, kidneys, pancreas—organ meats always sent her appetite scurrying away. She didn’t understand why anyone wanted to eat such things. Although she had to admit that in her youth, she’d been subjected to worse fare, such as pickled fish served in a variety of brines and sauces.
It was bad enough being subjected to such ghastly dishes in the evening, but for breakfast . . .
She gave another inward grimace.
“The blood sausage is quite delicious,” said a smooth, deep voice beside her. “May I offer you a serving?”
She startled. How had Rupert crept up on her without her being aware? She hadn’t even heard him approach.
She shot him a withering look. “No. You know I detest such fare.”
“Kippers, then?” he inquired blithely, even though she could see the evil glint in his eyes. “I am certain you’ll want two or three at the very least.”
“I don’t want any,” she said quietly, “as well you know. Are you deliberately trying to annoy me this morning?”
“I am only trying to shake you out of your nerves. You’re tense as a fox in a ring full of hounds. If you keep this up, my sister will be interrogating you until you break.”
She resisted the urge to turn around and see if Emma was indeed watching them. “Well, she’s bound to wonder regardless, since you suddenly decided to grace us with your presence this morning. What were you thinking?”
“Actually, I decided it would be easier in future if we are openly seen to have laid aside the old gauntlet between us. A better rapport seems wise under the circumstances, particularly since we will be spending a great deal more time in each other’s company.”
Her brows drew close and she lowered her voice to barely above a whisper. “I cannot see why that should be necessary. Nothing has to change between us except . . . well, you know.”
His lips twisted sardonically. “Ah, so you just want me to sneak into your room at night, have my way with you, and then leave, hmm ?”
She held back a gasp. “Well, not precisely, but something close. We hardly need to live in each other’s pockets, I should think.”
“I’ve found that taking a lover is far more enjoyable when it’s about more than sex. Which I would be happy to teach you if you would but follow my direction.”
Before she could open her mouth to debate the point, he lifted the lid off another chafing dish. “The ham is very good,” he said in a carrying voice. “Allow me to cut you a slice.”
Aware that they had been whispering together far too long, she held out her plate and waited for him to carve.
“And a scone as well,” he suggested, indicating a cloth-covered basket nearby.
Resigned, she took a scone.
“Eggs?” he inquired, after he had laid the ham on her plate.
Her lips tightened since she knew she would never be able to eat half the food he was insisting she take.
He laughed and spooned a generous helping of golden scrambled eggs next to the rest of her meal.
“What are the two of you talking about over there?” Emma called. “Something interesting, I hope.”
Ariadne sent him a
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