He followed suit again. “Geoffrey said I should persuade you not to drink too much.”
“So you’re my keeper?”
“No, of course—”
“There could be worse keepers.”
He flushed. She took his glass, summoned the waiter back, and took two more. “So what
Field hadn’t eaten tonight and he was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol again. He sighed. “My vices?”
“You don’t have any.”
“I have vices.”
“So what are they?”
“Self-doubt. Is that a vice?”
“No. In moderation, it’s a virtue.”
“Well—”
“Hold on.” She raised her glass.
“You know—”
“No. You’ve got to keep me company, that’s your job.”
He frowned. “My job?”
“You’re my keeper.”
“Penelope . . .”
“Drink.” She tossed back another and Field did the same, shaking his head afterward. It was burning his stomach now. She gave the glasses back to the waiter and took two more.
“That’s enough.”
“Now, Dickie, you mustn’t—”
“I’ll—”
“No you won’t.”
“Just give me a few minutes. Can we slow down at least?”
She smiled, her face softening. “All right, Mr. Field. Let’s start with the traditional sins. Greed?”
He shrugged. “Would I like to be rich, never to have to worry, to afford . . .” He gestured with his hand at the men and women inside the ballroom. “If that is greed, then yes.”
“Envy?”
He hesitated. “Envy, yes. Sometimes, yes.”
“Sloth?”
“No.”
“Avarice?”
“I think I answered that with greed.”
She took a sip of her whiskey and looked at him, a hint of amusement at the corners of her mouth. “Lust?” she asked quietly.
Field didn’t answer, but she drained her glass and exhorted him to follow with her hand. “One more,” she said when he hesitated. He drank.
“I’ve never met a woman who drank whiskey.”
“How sheltered your life has been.”
“In some ways.”
“In what ways has it not been sheltered?”
Field smiled. “What about you?” he asked.
“Have I been sheltered?”
He shook his head. “Which of the sins do you fall prey to?”
“All of them, probably. Most people seem to think I’m wicked.”
“Greed?”
She sighed. “For happiness, yes.”
“That doesn’t count as greed.”
“Some people think it does.”
“Penelope . . .” A man stood at her shoulder. He wore thick glasses and had wavy hair and a neatly trimmed
