“I was in the library.”
“Alone?” He regarded me carefully.
There was no way to evade the directness of his question. “Well, no. The duke was there as well.”
So many emotions flickered over Robert’s face that, for the first time, he was impossible to read. Guilt wormed its way through me as I thought of Robert spending the afternoon by himself. “Perhaps we should spend some time exploring the castle together tomorrow,” I suggested. “I don’t think I’ve seen even a quarter of it yet.”
Robert studied me for another moment, his posture stiff. “Yes, of course.”
“Come.” I motioned forward. “We’ll be late for dinner.”
Robert walked beside me. “Was it just the two of you?”
I considered feigning ignorance of what he spoke, but he would see right through me. “Until his mother joined us.”
“The duchess?” His voice went up in pitch, expressing doubt. “What did she want with you?”
The way he said it set me off. “Nothing, of course. What interest could someone of her station have in someone like me?”
He opened the door to the drawing room adjacent to the dining room and shook his head. “That is not what I meant, Juliet, and you know it. It just seems the duke and his family have taken a great deal of . . . interest in you. I am only curious as to why. They’ve singled no one else out. I’d expected Hugh to have most of their attention.”
Thankfully, Robert knew nothing of my conversation with the dowager duchess. Still defensive, I could feel myself pushing him away as he’d done to me. “I am sure I don’t know their reasons,” I said tersely. The butler came in announcing dinner before Robert could assault me with any more questions, but with the way the seating had been arranged for this evening, I knew the matter would not rest for long.
“Miss Graham,” a low-timbered voice said from behind me. “Shall I escort you in?”
Robert’s eyes bulged as he turned and came face-to-face with the duke.
I carefully avoided Robert’s gaze as I took Halstead’s arm. Though it was only a short walk into dinner, my senses were fixed on the feel of my arm in his. Beneath his jacket, his arm felt as if it were made of stone. I sensed a dormant energy in him, well concealed, that might be awakened with even the slightest prodding. It sent my heart skittering, making it almost impossible to take a decent breath.
Lady Ellen caught sight of us and sent me a questioning look. No doubt we would be the gossip of the night.
Halstead helped me to my chair, and I watched as he, with some effort, took the seat adjacent to me at the head of the table. An uncomfortable silence crept up. Ironically, his grandmother’s interference had the opposite effect of that for which she’d hoped; it put Halstead on guard, causing him to throw up a sort of barricade between us, and it seemed there was nothing I might say to tear it down.
I exhaled, needing to speak, to do something to alleviate the tension that muddied the air. “How did you pass the rest of your afternoon, Your Grace?”
“I finished some correspondence, Miss Graham,” he replied and took a large sip of wine.
I glanced at the dowager, seated across from me, who shot me a look of triumph. How I wished to give her a piece of my mind. Instead I looked around anxiously, hoping the food would soon be served.
“And you?” he returned.
“I spent some time practicing the pianoforte.”
He nodded, not even willing to tease me about what he’d overheard in my last practice session.
Though we attempted pleasantries, the conversation between us quickly grew stilted, the easy exchange from this afternoon gone. I cursed the dowager duchess for her conniving ways. After dinner I planned to find her and tell her how utterly foolish her interference was.
The sound of trays and cutlery broke through the silence as the first course was served. I fingered the napkin in my lap, hating the attention that seemed to be heaped upon us. Even though quiet conversation arose down the length of the table, it felt like we were a show, a part to be played for the sake of social display. I took a spoonful of soup, forcing it down.
Desperate for conversation, for distraction, I pressed forward with the worst sort of pleasantries. No doubt they would make Halstead detest me. “Any interesting matters of correspondence?” I tried to keep my voice low, but the whole table seemed to lean in, trying to catch wind of our conversation.
Halstead stared at me a moment, as if I’d asked a rudely impertinent question. “Nothing that would interest you.”
Foolishly, I’d believed that after our conversation this afternoon, things might be smoother, easier between us. Yet his reluctance to engage with me when others were present irked me to no end. It was more than awkward; it was humiliating. “Try me,” I challenged, raising my voice.
A dangerous glint sparked in his eyes as he set down his fork with precision. “I informed several of my fellow members of the House of Lords that I will remain absent for the upcoming session of parliament.” His voice was purposefully loud, that all seated might hear it.
“And why is that?” I boldly pushed on.
He looked at me and then over at his grandmother. The sneer on his face indicated his temper was close to the surface. “For the same reason I usually avoid the company that is paraded about in my own home. Because I have no desire to be scrutinized in the public eye, no desire to be seen as someone who can be cajoled and manipulated as though it is my mind that has been compromised, and not just my leg.” His scathing words cut right to my core, stripping me of any response.
The entire table went silent. Dread pooled in
