Captain Amberton's Inherited Bride (Whitby Weddings 2)

‘I’m afraid I’ve shocked Mrs Gargrave.’

‘It doesn’t take much.’

She still couldn’t read his expression. ‘Are you shocked, too?’

‘A little.’ He smiled finally, though his gaze never left hers. ‘Though that’s not necessarily a bad thing. I quite like to be shocked sometimes.’

‘What about my hair?’ She felt nervous asking. ‘Do you like that?’

He raised a hand to his chin and rubbed it thoughtfully. ‘Do you know, the first time I saw you I thought you looked like a kitten. I wanted to pat you on the head. Now I do even more.’

A kitten? She felt a wave of dismay. How many more ways were there of calling her helpless?

‘You are not patting me on the head.’

‘Then I promise I won’t, no matter how tempted I am, but for the record, I approve. Wholeheartedly, in fact.’

‘Because I look like a kitten?’ She couldn’t conceal the resentment in her voice, and he arched an eyebrow.

‘I meant it as a compliment. Kittens are generally considered quite sweet.’

‘They’re small and timid.’

‘Ah.’ His eyes flashed with a look of understanding. ‘You’re right. But kittens grow into cats. Beautiful, sleek ones with claws, and we’ve already established that you have those.’

She made a harrumphing soun

d, only partially mollified, and he laughed. ‘Not good enough? All right then, Violet, you look quite scandalously beautiful tonight. That hairstyle suits you.’

‘Thank you.’ Her cheeks flushed at the compliment. No one in her whole life had ever called her beautiful before, nor looked at her with such obvious appreciation—no one except him five years before when she’d thought he’d been mocking her. Was he mocking her now? She peered up at him from under her lashes. No, amazingly enough, he didn’t look as though he was.

‘More importantly,’ he continued, ‘do you like it?’

‘Yes. I never realised how heavy my hair was before. I always felt like it was dragging me down, but I never realised how much. It’s as though I can finally move.’

‘Then I approve even more. Did you do it yourself?’

‘Yes, but it looked awful. Eliza fixed it.’

‘Remind me to raise her wages. She might make an excellent ladies’ maid. If you decide to stay, that is.’ He held out a chair for her to sit down. ‘Now I hope that you’re hungry. Cook has provided a feast.’

‘Have they finally forgiven us in the kitchens, then?’

‘It appears so. We’ll just have to eat everything or they might never cook for us again.’ He picked up a bottle from the centre of the table. ‘I didn’t know what you’d care to drink. I thought maybe lemonade?’

‘I’ll have some wine, thank you.’ She smiled at his look of surprise.

‘I thought that you didn’t approve?’

‘My father didn’t approve. I’ve never tried. I’d like to have a taste before I make up my mind.’

‘Very well.’ He put the lemonade down and picked up a different bottle, pouring a splash into her glass.

‘I thought you didn’t like half measures?’ She gave him a pointed look.

‘Touché.’ His lips quirked as he poured again. ‘I admire your good taste. This is a particularly fine claret. Is that sufficient?’

‘Yes, thank you.’