A Gentleman Never Tells by Eloisa James Read Free Book Online Page B

he began walking toward her. It gave her a distinct thrill to see that he was . . . well . . . interested. In her. She could see that in his eyes.
    He moved toward her with the kind of whip-­smooth movement that told her he was a rider, and probably a good one. His hair wasn’t pomaded or arranged in any particular fashion; it tumbled around in thick curls.
    She was late because of changing her dress, so Cat ushered everyone directly into the dining room. The girls were with them, and for some reason Cat launched into a lecture about how to manage suitors. True, both girls would debut the following spring, but Lizzie hated to think about it.
    What if they didn’t have any suitors? What if they found themselves at the side of the ballroom? All that instruction would go to waste.
    She adored Cat, but her elder sister spent 80 percent of her time instructing someone about the right way to do things. Joshua was chiming in now, lending a gentlemen’s perspective.
    Mr. Berwick seemed to have as little to contribute on the subject as she did. It had been so long since Lizzie had conversed with someone other than a family member that she couldn’t think of anything to say.
    For his part, Mr. Berwick looked completely unperturbed at the silence between them. He had accepted an outrageous amount of beef pie and was eating it.
    She hadn’t the slightest inclination to eat supper, let alone something as heavy as that pie.
    â€œHow long have you been the guardian of your niece, Mr. Berwick?” she finally asked.
    â€œEleven months,” he said. And then, without hesitation, “Why on earth did you marry Adrian Troutt?”
    She blinked at him. “Those two questions are hardly commensurate.”
    â€œI don’t see why not. You asked me about my family, and then I asked you about yours.”
    â€œPolite conversation is not a question game,” she noted. “I do not consider Adrian a member of my family. He is my deceased spouse.”
    His eyes turned out to be indigo blue. There was a faint smile in them that made her stomach curl. “Don’t you think men and women always play some sort of game while conversing?”
    â€œI wouldn’t know,” Lizzie said, with perfect truth.
    His brows drew together. “I wasn’t in London when you debuted. So I truly don’t know why you chose Adrian Troutt.”
    â€œI didn’t choose him; my father did. He wanted my sister and me to be titled, and he was prepared to pay handsomely. Adrian presented himself, and Adrian had a title.”
    â€œOh, right. Now I think of it, your sister said as much.”
    â€œDo you have family, Mr. Berwick?”
    â€œI have a sister, Hattie’s mother. She’s in Egypt, ardently hoping that she can save souls by handing out cups of tea and reading the Bible aloud in a language ­people there don’t understand. If she’s not already in Africa, doing the same thing.”
    â€œGoodness,” Lizzie said, a bit taken aback. “Sarah told me that Hattie’s mother lived abroad.”
    â€œIt sounds better that way, as if she might be taking waters in Switzerland, or on holiday in Portugal. Fortunately, Hattie and I have taken to each other, because her parents don’t plan to return for years. You are not eating, Lady Troutt.”
    Lizzie look down at her plate. “I don’t care for beef pie.”
    He glanced up and a footman instantly appeared at his side. “Take this away,” he said. “Bring Lady Troutt something made from vegetables.”
    The footman bowed and departed.
    â€œYou needn’t have done that,” Lizzie remarked. She picked up her wine glass and fiddled with it.
    â€œWhy stare at food if you don’t wish to eat it?” Clearly he liked beef, given the rate he was putting away his pie.
    â€œI was taught to try each dish.”
    A footman slipped a plate in front of her.