“Yes, but we men have much thicker skulls.”
“True,” drawled Caro, drawing a giggle from Isobel.
“I’ll not argue that,” said Alec. “At least, not on an empty stomach. Shall we eat?”
Caro collected the empty plates, then passed around slices of the fresh-baked apple tart and wedges of the local cheddar cheese.
“Arrgh. I vow, I can’t eat another bite.” Closing his eyes, Andover lay back on a flat slab of stone and folded his hands atop his stomach. “I can’t move either. I think I shall just nap for a bit.”
Isobel gave a drowsy nod. “I’m going to rest as well.” She reached for her reticule. “I brought a new book.”
“What are you reading?” asked Andover, raising one eyelid.
“The latest Sir Sharpe Quill novel,” replied Isobel with a grin. “It just came out last week.”
“You couldn’t have chosen a more perfect place in which to enjoy the hair-raising adventures of Emmalina Smythe—other than a dungeon with rattling chains and dripping water,” he said jestingly. “But that wouldn’t be nearly so comfortable as this.”
“Why, Andover, you speak as if you are familiar with Quill’s novels,” teased Isobel.
“Oh, I’ve read every one of them. They are all the crack in London, and if a fellow wants to converse with the ladies, he has to be up to snuff on Count Alessandro’s exploits.”
Caro hid a smile as Alec caught her eye. She shook her head slightly in response to his raised brow. Andover was a very good friend and her sister’s former beau, but still, he wasn’t aware of Anna’s secret identity. It was kept very closely guarded—Alec only knew because events at Dunbar Castle had forced them to admit him to their inner circle.
“I say, would you mind terribly reading it aloud?” asked Andover after blowing out a contented sigh.
Isobel readily agreed and opened to the first chapter.
With the two of them occupied, it was the perfect opportunity to wander off, decided Caro. The same thought had obviously occurred to Alec, for he was already on his feet.
“Would you care for a stroll?” he asked. “Or are you determined to vanquish that pie?”
“Good heavens, no!” she responded, quickly putting aside her untouched slice. “I surrendered all thought of that after fighting off the last bite of roasted capon.”
“Then come along.” Alec held out a hand. “Let us walk off our indulgences.”
“Don’t get into any trouble,” murmured Andover.
Isobel left off her reading to remark, “My brother never gets into any trouble.” A pause. “That, by the by, isn’t a compliment.”
He chuffed something unintelligible under his breath.
“Was that a grunt or a growl?” Caro couldn’t resist teasing him. “As you see, Isobel, your brother gives a typical male response when stymied by a lady’s wisdom.”
Her friend laughed, as did Andover, who was always willing to poke fun at himself.
Alec turned and regarded her with a very solemn expression. “Ladies aren’t always as wise as they think.” His voice was serious as well, but then the corners of his mouth twitched ever so slightly.
“Nor,” she replied swiftly, “are men.”
A snort—this time there was no mistaking the gruff sound that slipped from his lips.
Isobel giggled.
“It appears we have dueled to a draw,” added Alec.
“Consider yourself lucky, Strathcona,” drawled Andover. “Now put your rapiers away before someone gets pricked. It’s far too lovely a day to cross verbal swords.”
“Agreed.” Alec took hold of Caro’s hand, and the warmth of his long, tapered fingers entwining with hers sent a tiny shiver running up her arm.