Heiress in Red Silk (Duke's Heiress #2) - Madeline Hunter Page 0,57
are they?”
“Gastropods. Cornu aspersum.” He popped one into his mouth. “The French call them escargot. We call them snails.”
She made a face. “Back home we called them slugs, and we didn’t eat them. We squished them or killed them with garlic water.”
“These live in these shells they are lying in now. Slugs don’t have shells.”
“You would know the difference.” It did not sound like praise. She kept poking at one with her fork, as if waiting to see it move.
“They have been eaten since Roman times. They are actually farmed. Try one. I promise there is no slime. They cultivate them so the ones they cook have been rid of that.”
“Must I?”
“Of course not. It takes some courage the first time.”
She used her implement to dig one out of its shell. She examined it. “If I shoot the cat, it will be all your fault for saying I would be a coward to refuse. Pour me more champagne so I can wash it down.”
He did as she bid, then watched her gather her nerve. With one quick movement, she ate the snail, chewed three times, then reached for the champagne and took a good swallow.
“That was not pleasant. Other than the butter, it had little taste, and the texture was odd.”
“It is an acquired taste.”
Sole was served, which was more to her liking. “If you have acquired all these French tastes, you must visit frequently.”
“Fairly often.”
“Have you traveled to other places?”
“I came of age after Napoleon was defeated. I went on a tour of the Continent, like most young men.” He realized how presumptuous that sounded. “At least most of those who are, as you would say, my sort.”
“I’ve never even been many places in England. My home. London and Richmond. Brighton, once.” She shrugged. “Just as well. Your sort speak all these languages. I’m still learning me own.” She grinned after she said that, as if to assure him that she had deliberately made the mistake.
“You do not need to know the languages to travel. Is traveling something you want to do?”
She appeared astonished by the question. “I’ve never thought about it. Such a thing was never possible before. But, yes, I think I would like that someday. It is interesting to see new things and habits. Even snails.”
He wondered what it would be like to revisit the sites on his tour, only this time with Rosamund at his side. He pictured her basking in the warmth of Greece and Egypt, and walking the cobblestones of Florence. He imagined making love to her on a terrace in Positano, and swimming with her in Lake Como.
She set down her fork and knife. “I hope you did not tell them to bring more food. I am very done. In fact, I am so done that I need a walk.”
“I will accompany you. We can take a turn down by the river.”
He waited below while she went above to get a wrap. He had the hotel call for a carriage, then checked for any mail. One letter had arrived. He read it, then tucked it away just as Rosamund descended the stairs.
She looked lovely in the wide-brimmed bonnet she had donned. It flared around her face, its soft cream fabric pleated into a series of folds that acted like lines directing one to look at her eyes. Not that he needed instruction. It had taken true effort not to stare at her all through their meal.
She also wore a long, cream shawl that flowed all around her. Lightweight, it would provide little warmth. It could be chilly near the river.
“I could wear a pelisse,” she said, fingering the shawl’s edge, “but none of mine make an ensemble with this dress.”
“That should be fine,” he lied easily while he offered his arm.
* * *
Paris remained busy long into the night. That was Rosamund’s first reaction when they began strolling along the Seine. They were not alone. Some people hurried past, but many walked slowly, taking the air.
“The river smells more than ours does,” she said.
“It is a big city and the Seine runs right through it. It does not move as fast as the Thames either, or have a tide.”
Although it was dark, she could see the buildings they passed. Streetlamps provided broad pools of illumination.
“They are still burning oil here,” Kevin said. “These lamps have silver backing that reflects the light. Grows it. The light is superior, even if the mechanics are clumsy.”