Page 16 of The Scarred Duke's Bride
“Well, you can be certain that whatever happens now or in the future, I will never bother to lie to you. I see no benefit in that.”
She nodded jerkily, “All right then.”
He let go of her arms. “Very well. I am glad we settled that. Now, would you indulge my mother by attempting to be sociable for the rest of the evening?”
She had the decency to blush. “Of course. I did not mean to be rude.”
“I know you didn’t, but you could try to think of someone other than yourself once in a while.”
Her eyes became pinpoints of anger, but he did not pause to hear what she had to say. He turned and walked over to the parlor, trusting that she would follow. He knew it might not have been the best decision to make that dig, but he was extremely irritated by her behavior. If he was honest, it stung that she thought he was a liar, even though he could see how she came to that conclusion.
The rest of the evening passed pleasantly enough. Freya engaged in conversation with everyone else in the room aside from Eric. He didn’t blame her after his last comment. He was just glad that it did not get awkward.
He took the time to talk with Isabella and get further acquainted with her. She had a lot of questions about theton’sgossip which he unfortunately could not confirm or deny. “I am a relative stranger to town. Ask me about the high seas, and I can tell you some stories. But not so much about what happens with the beau monde.”
She did not seem too disappointed with his answer, which was a relief, but proceeded to ask him about pirates. “I remember that my sister called you a pirate. Were you one?”
Eric laughed. “No, no. I was a Lieutenant Commander in His Majesty’s Navy. We did in our time on the seas encounter some pirates, and in some cases, we had to engage with them as warriors because the enemy used them to transport contraband across our waters.”
“So why did Freya call you a pirate?”
“Probably because of the scar on my face.” He grinned at her to show that he did not mind.
Isabella stared at it thoughtfully. “Did it hurt?”
Eric pondered whether he should tell her the truth. She was a young lady but not that young. “Yes, it hurt me a lot. Sometimes it still does.”
Her mouth turned down. “I’m sorry. Does it hurt now?”
He smiled, touched by her compassion. “No. It’s quite all right now.”
Her face brightened. “Oh good.”
* * *
Freya was rather surprised at the attention that Eric gave to Isabella. He answered her many questions patiently and honestly. It was difficult to reconcile this kind, warm gentleman with the cutting brute that she had encountered in the corridor. She was still very angry at his words.
All of my life, I have never thought of myself or put myself before others! How dare you say such a thing to me?
Even as she spoke politely to his mother, she was still fuming. If she had not found herself liking Mama Campbell, in spite of her best efforts to remain aloof, she would have cut the evening short.
But finally, the digestifs were drunk, and everyone got to their feet.
“I shall ride back with you as I have some business to conclude with your father,” Eric said, much to Freya’s annoyance. She had been hoping to be rid of him for the evening at least. They all filed out of the room, Mama Campbell talking animatedly with Mrs. Beecham about the challenges of raising children as they walked ahead while Isabella and William chatted to each other, trailing behind everyone else. Freya had no choice but to engage with Eric.
She gave him a wintry smile. “I hope I was vivacious enough to meet your standards.”
He smiled back, just as coldly. “I am touched that you would want to meetanyof my standards. However, I have resigned myself to the impossibility of that happening when you are so hell-bent on seeing the world from your perspective alone.”
“That is not true!” she hissed, her palm itching to slap him.
He shrugged with studied nonchalance. “I can only speak of my own experience.”
“Well, your experience is flawed. Perhaps you are not used to interacting with people of a certain class. We do not all behave like pirates.” She hoped to cut him with her remarks.
He smirked. “Very clever. Were you eavesdropping on my conversation with your sister?”
Irritation rose in her throat like bile. “We were all in the same room; was I supposed to close my ears?”
