Page 15 of The Scarred Duke's Bride
Eric was inclined to agree.
“Thank you…ma’am,” Freya said softly.
“Oh, please call me Mama Campbell. All of my family does anyway.”
Freya colored up. “A-all right, M-mama Campbell.”
She patted Freya’s arm comfortingly, “You’ll get used to it, never fear.”
The housekeeper came to announce that dinner was served, saving them all from more awkward exchanges. Isabella looked around and then whispered loudly to William, “Do you not have a butler?”
He grinned. “No, we only have a housekeeper and a cook.”
“Oh.” She seemed to think about this deeply. “But my sister said you were rich.”
William laughed. “You’re funny.”
Isabella smiled uncertainly as if she wasn’t sure if that was a joke or not. Thankfully they arrived at the dining room, and Eric directed everyone where to sit, putting Isabella and William next to each other, the governess next to Freya, and himself at the opposite end from his mother, who sat at the head of the table.
He worried that the dinner might be filled with awkward silences, but his mother and Isabella ensured that did not happen. Mama Campbell asked a lot of questions, and Isabella was all too happy to answer them.
The silence of her sister was quite noticeable in contrast. Eric decided that he needed to get Freya alone and find out what the matter was. It was surprisingly easy as they shifted to the parlor for dessert. As if she had read Eric's mind, his mother chivvied everyone else ahead of them, leaving Freya and Eric in the rear of the group.
Eric grabbed Freya’s elbow to stop her from walking. She looked startled, turning to face him with wide eyes.
“Is something the matter?” he asked as politely as he could.
She blinked at him a few times. “What makes you think that?”
“You’ve hardly said a word the entire night.”
“Well, your mother and Isabella talk a lot.”
He ground his teeth, gripping both of her shoulders. “Indeed, they do. Especially when they have to carry the conversation.”
She frowned as if she had no clue what he meant.
“You’ve been very quiet all night,” he elaborated irritably.
Her eyes widened further, and she swallowed audibly. “I did not intend to be.”
“Oh? And what has you so absent-minded then?”
“Why did you lie to me about Stark Manor?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“My father has shown no sign of wanting to sell it.”
“Indeed, he would rather hold it over your head now that he has realized what a hold it has on you. When I offered him the money to go for his trip, he laughed at me and told me that he does not take charity.”
She was staring intently into his eyes as if she might snatch the truth from them. It was disconcerting.
“He does not want to get well?”
“No, I believe he is working with his physicians and corresponding with experts from the Orient about his treatment. I suppose making the journey all that way would be too taxing for him." He frowned. “You really thought I lied to you?”
She just looked at him and pursed her lips. “I didn’t know what to think.”
