observed. “Oddly enough, Nick never mentioned that particular quirk of yours.”
“You were in the habit of discussing me with my brother, then, sir?” Her tone acquired a degree of hauteur, and she was aware that she was hurt as much as anything by the idea that Nick would discuss her with this man but not tell her anything about the Earl in exchange. What had they had together that was so exclusive, Nicholas Devere and Julius Forsythe?
“My dear Harriet, he spoke of you only in the most fond manner. You were much in his thoughts, I gathered. You and the twins. I had the impression he hated to leave you alone.”
He spoke quietly, and the black eyes had taken on a texture almost like black velvet, Harriet thought. He was doing it again, enclosing them both in some exclusive circle, where nothing around them couldpenetrate. She took an overlarge sip of her wine and turned her head, coughing into her hand, shattering the uncomfortably private moment.
The brass gong provided welcome diversion. Mallow, the butler, stood at the foot of the staircase and announced, “Dinner is served, your grace.”
The Duke bowed to the Dowager Lady Belling, offering his arm. Harriet swiftly paired the remaining guests with a smile, a nod, a hand on an arm, and took up the rear of the procession on the arm of Lord Marbury. The dining salon was brilliantly lit. Chandeliers threw torchlight onto the shining rosewood surface of the immense table, and candelabra marched, silver-bright, down the center. A fire burned in the massive inglenook fireplace, dispelling the chill in the air, heavy curtains were drawn across the long windows, effectively blocking drafts, and hidden from view beneath the table, small warming pans of hot coals dispensed heat to frozen feet.
Julius held Harriet’s chair for her as she took her place at the center of the right side of the table, and then he took his own seat on her right. Aunt Augusta presided at the foot of the table, the Duke at the head.
“The children are not making an appearance at thedinner table, I gather,” Julius observed, taking up his soupspoon.
“No, but they will tomorrow. We will dine at four tomorrow, so that the servants may have their own Christmas dinner in the evening.” Harriet took a spoonful of chestnut soup. “I am surprised, sir, that you are not spending Christmas with your own family. You mentioned a sister and children, as I recall.” She broke off a piece of bread and glanced sideways at him. “Christmas is usually a time to be with one’s family, not a party of strangers.”
“I don’t consider the Duke a stranger,” he responded. “This is excellent soup, by the way . . . And neither do I consider you to be a stranger, if I may say so without impertinence. Your brother talked so often of you.”
“You are a stranger to me, Lord Marbury.” She glanced at him again. “I had never heard of you before yesterday afternoon.”
“No,” he agreed blandly. “As I’ve said, your brother must have considered my friendship to be less noteworthy than I considered his.”
“I don’t believe that,” she said directly, deciding she would get nowhere by continuing to tiptoe around the subject. “Nick was always very loyal to his friends, and he and I had few secrets from each other. Theremust have been some compelling reason for him to keep you a secret.”
“I can’t think of one,” he responded. “And since we are unlikely to discover the answer now, maybe we should stop worrying about it.”
Harriet tried another tack. “Were you with Nick at the siege of Elba when he was killed?”
He shook his head. “No, I was never in the army.”
And neither was Nick, she reflected. Or at least, not in the regular army. “So you were just companions in pleasure, then?” She took a slice of roast turbot from the platter presented by a footman.
“That is certainly one way of putting it.” He helped himself liberally to fish.
She took a delicate
“You were in the habit of discussing me with my brother, then, sir?” Her tone acquired a degree of hauteur, and she was aware that she was hurt as much as anything by the idea that Nick would discuss her with this man but not tell her anything about the Earl in exchange. What had they had together that was so exclusive, Nicholas Devere and Julius Forsythe?
“My dear Harriet, he spoke of you only in the most fond manner. You were much in his thoughts, I gathered. You and the twins. I had the impression he hated to leave you alone.”
He spoke quietly, and the black eyes had taken on a texture almost like black velvet, Harriet thought. He was doing it again, enclosing them both in some exclusive circle, where nothing around them couldpenetrate. She took an overlarge sip of her wine and turned her head, coughing into her hand, shattering the uncomfortably private moment.
The brass gong provided welcome diversion. Mallow, the butler, stood at the foot of the staircase and announced, “Dinner is served, your grace.”
The Duke bowed to the Dowager Lady Belling, offering his arm. Harriet swiftly paired the remaining guests with a smile, a nod, a hand on an arm, and took up the rear of the procession on the arm of Lord Marbury. The dining salon was brilliantly lit. Chandeliers threw torchlight onto the shining rosewood surface of the immense table, and candelabra marched, silver-bright, down the center. A fire burned in the massive inglenook fireplace, dispelling the chill in the air, heavy curtains were drawn across the long windows, effectively blocking drafts, and hidden from view beneath the table, small warming pans of hot coals dispensed heat to frozen feet.
Julius held Harriet’s chair for her as she took her place at the center of the right side of the table, and then he took his own seat on her right. Aunt Augusta presided at the foot of the table, the Duke at the head.
“The children are not making an appearance at thedinner table, I gather,” Julius observed, taking up his soupspoon.
“No, but they will tomorrow. We will dine at four tomorrow, so that the servants may have their own Christmas dinner in the evening.” Harriet took a spoonful of chestnut soup. “I am surprised, sir, that you are not spending Christmas with your own family. You mentioned a sister and children, as I recall.” She broke off a piece of bread and glanced sideways at him. “Christmas is usually a time to be with one’s family, not a party of strangers.”
“I don’t consider the Duke a stranger,” he responded. “This is excellent soup, by the way . . . And neither do I consider you to be a stranger, if I may say so without impertinence. Your brother talked so often of you.”
“You are a stranger to me, Lord Marbury.” She glanced at him again. “I had never heard of you before yesterday afternoon.”
“No,” he agreed blandly. “As I’ve said, your brother must have considered my friendship to be less noteworthy than I considered his.”
“I don’t believe that,” she said directly, deciding she would get nowhere by continuing to tiptoe around the subject. “Nick was always very loyal to his friends, and he and I had few secrets from each other. Theremust have been some compelling reason for him to keep you a secret.”
“I can’t think of one,” he responded. “And since we are unlikely to discover the answer now, maybe we should stop worrying about it.”
Harriet tried another tack. “Were you with Nick at the siege of Elba when he was killed?”
He shook his head. “No, I was never in the army.”
And neither was Nick, she reflected. Or at least, not in the regular army. “So you were just companions in pleasure, then?” She took a slice of roast turbot from the platter presented by a footman.
“That is certainly one way of putting it.” He helped himself liberally to fish.
She took a delicate
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