The Lost Duke of Wyndham Page 0,47

encounter.

And perhaps thought she ought not to be.

Which was even better.

"Chocolate, Miss Eversleigh?" the footman asked.

"Oh, yes, please, Graham." She sounded most relieved to get her beverage in hand. And indeed, when she finally sat across from him, her plate nearly as full as his, she sighed with delight.

"You don't take sugar?" he asked, surprised. He'd never met a woman - and very few men, for that matter - with a taste for unsweetened chocolate. He couldn't abide it himself.

She shook her head. "Not in the morning. I need it undiluted."

He watched with interest - and, to be honest, a fair bit of amusement - as she alternately sipped the brew and breathed in the scent of it. Her hands did not leave her cup until she'd drained the last drop, and then Graham, who obviously knew her preferences well, was at her side in an instant, refilling without even a hint of a request.

Miss Eversleigh, Jack decided, was definitely not a morning person.

"Have you been down long?" she asked, now that she had imbibed a full cup.

"Not long." He gave a rueful glance to his plate, which was almost clean. "I learned to eat quickly in the army."

"By necessity, I imagine," she said, taking a bite of her coddled eggs.

He let his chin dip very slightly to acknowledge her statement.

"The dowager will be down shortly," she said.

"Ah. So you mean that we must learn to converse quickly as well, if we wish to have any enjoyable discourse before the descent of the duchess."

Her lips twitched. "That wasn't exactly what I meant, but - " She took a sip of her chocolate, not that that hid her smile. " - it's close."

"The things we must learn to do quickly," he said with a sigh.

She looked up, fork frozen halfway to her mouth. A small blob of egg fell to her plate with a slap. Her cheeks were positively flaming with color.

"I didn't mean that," he said, most pleased with the direction of her thoughts. "Good heavens, I would never do that quickly."

Her lips parted. Not quite an O, but a rather attractive little oval nonetheless.

"Unless, of course I had to," he added, letting his eyes grow heavy-lidded and warm. "When faced with the choice of speed versus abstinence - "

"Mr. Audley!"

He sat back with a satisfied smile. "I was wondering when you'd scold me."

"Not soon enough," she muttered.

He picked up his knife and fork and cut off a piece of bacon. It was thick and pink and perfectly cooked.

"And once again, there it is," he said, popping the meat into his mouth. He chewed, swallowed, then added, "My inability to be serious."

"But you claimed that wasn't true." She leaned in - just an inch or so, but the motion seemed to say - I'm watching you.

He almost shivered. He liked being watched by her.

"You said," she continued, "that you were frequently serious, and that it is up to me to figure out when."

"Is that what I said?" he murmured.

"Something rather close to it."

"Well, then." He leaned in closer, too, and his eyes captured hers, green on blue, across the breakfast table. "What do you think? Am I being serious right now?"

For a moment he thought she might answer him, but no, she just sat back with an innocent little smile and said, "I really couldn't say."

"You disappoint me, Miss Eversleigh."

Her smile turned positively serene as she returned her attention to the food on her plate. "I couldn't possibly render judgment on a subject so unfit for my ears," she murmured.

He laughed aloud at that. "You have a very devious sense of humor, Miss Eversleigh."

She appeared to be pleased by the compliment, almost as if she'd been waiting for years for someone to acknowledge it. But before she could say anything (if indeed she'd intended to say something), the moment was positively assaulted by the dowager, who marched into the breakfast room trailed by two rather harried and unhappy looking maids.

"What are you laughing about?" she demanded.

"Nothing in particular," Jack replied, deciding to spare Miss Eversleigh the task of making conversation.

After five years in the dowager's service, the poor girl deserved a respite. "Just enjoying Miss Eversleigh's enchanting company."

The dowager shot them both a sharp look. "My plate," she snapped. One of the maids rushed to the sideboard, but she was halted when the dowager said, "Miss Eversleigh will see to it."

Grace stood without a word, and the dowager turned to Jack and said, "She is the only one who