Just a little, which was ideal. Too much, and that would mean she was embarrassed. A bare hint of pale pink, however, meant that she was looking forward to the encounter.
And perhaps thought she ought not to be.
Which was even better.
"Chocolate, Miss Eversleigh?" the footman asked.
"Oh, yes, please, Graham. " She sounded most relieved to get her beverage in hand. And indeed, when she finally sat across from him, her plate nearly as full as his, she sighed with delight.
"You don't take sugar?" he asked, surprised. He'd never met a woman - and very few men, for that matter - with a taste for unsweetened chocolate. He couldn't abide it himself.
She shook her head. "Not in the morning. I need it undiluted. "
He watched with interest - and, to be honest, a fair bit of amusement - as she alternately sipped the brew and breathed in the scent of it. Her hands did not leave her cup until she'd drained the last drop, and then Graham, who obviously knew her preferences well, was at her side in an instant, refilling without even a hint of a request.
Miss Eversleigh, Jack decided, was definitely not a morning person.
"Have you been down long?" she asked, now that she had imbibed a full cup.
"Not long. " He gave a rueful glance to his plate, which was almost clean. "I learned to eat quickly in the army. "
"By necessity, I imagine," she said, taking a bite of her coddled eggs.
He let his chin dip very slightly to acknowledge her statement.
"The dowager will be down shortly," she said.
"Ah. So you mean that we must learn to converse quickly as well, if we wish to have any enjoyable discourse before the descent of the duchess. "
Her lips twitched. "That wasn't exactly what I meant, but - " She took a sip of her chocolate, not that that hid her smile. " - it's close. "
"The things we must learn to do quickly," he said with a sigh.
She looked up, fork frozen halfway to her mouth. A small blob of egg fell to her plate with a slap. Her cheeks were positively flaming with color.
"I didn't mean that," he said, most pleased with the direction of her thoughts. "Good heavens, I would never do that quickly. "
Her lips parted. Not quite an O, but a rather attractive little oval nonetheless.
"Unless, of course I had to," he added, letting his eyes grow heavy-lidded and warm. "When faced with the choice of speed versus abstinence - "
"Mr. Audley!"
He sat back with a satisfied smile. "I was wondering when you'd scold me. "
"Not soon enough," she muttered.
He picked up his knife and fork and cut off a piece of bacon. It was thick and pink and perfectly cooked.
"And once again, there it is," he said, popping the meat into his mouth. He chewed, swallowed, then added, "My inability to be serious. "
"But you claimed that wasn't true. " She leaned in - just an inch or so, but the motion seemed to say - I'm watching you.
He almost shivered. He liked being watched by her.
"You said," she continued, "that you were frequently serious, and that it is up to me to figure out when. "
"Is that what I said?" he murmured.
"Something rather close to it. "
"Well, then. " He leaned in closer, too, and his eyes captured hers, green on blue, across the breakfast table. "What do you think? Am I being serious right now?"
For a moment he thought she might answer him, but no, she just sat back wit
h an innocent little smile and said, "I really couldn't say. "
"You disappoint me, Miss Eversleigh. "
Her smile turned positively serene as she returned her attention to the food on her plate. "I couldn't possibly render judgment on a subject so unfit for my ears," she murmured.
He laughed aloud at that. "You have a very devious sense of humor, Miss Eversleigh. "
She appeared to be pleased by the compliment, almost as if she'd been waiting for years for someone to acknowledge it. But before she could say anything (if indeed she'd intended to say something), the moment was positively assaulted by the dowager, who marched into the breakfast room trailed by two rather harried and unhappy looking maids.
"What are you laughing about?" she demanded.
"Nothing in particular," Jack replied, deciding to spare Miss Eversleigh the task of making conversation.
After five years in the dowager's service, the poor girl deserved a respite. "Just enjoying Miss Eversleigh's enchanting company. "
The dowager shot them both a sharp look. "My plate," she snapped. One of the maids rushed to the sideboard, but she was halted when the dowager said, "Miss Eversleigh will see to it. "
Grace stood without a word, and the dowager turned to Jack and said, "She is the only one who does it properly. " She shook her head and let out a short-tempered little puff of air, clearly lamenting the levels of intelligence commonly found in the servants.
Jack said nothing, deciding this would be as good a time as any to invoke his aunt's favorite axiom: If you can't say something nice, say nothing at all.
Although it was tempting to say something extraordinarily nice about the servants.
Grace returned, plate in hand, set it down in front of the dowager, and then gave it a little twist, turning the disk until the eggs were at nine o'clock, closest to the forks.
Jack watched the entire affair, first curious, then impressed. The plate had been divided into six equal, wedge-shaped sections, each with its own food selection. Nothing touched, not even the hollandaise sauce, which had been dribbled over the eggs with careful precision. "It's a masterpiece," he declared, arching forward. He was trying to see if she'd signed her name with the hollandaise.
Grace gave him a look. One that was not difficult to interpret.
"Is it a sundial?" he asked, all innocence.
"What are you talking about?" the dowager grumbled, picking up a fork.
"No! Don't ruin it!" he cried out - as best he could without exploding with laughter.
But she jabbed a slice of stewed apple all the same.
"How could you?" Jack accused.
Grace actually turned in her chair, unable to watch.
"What the devil are you talking about?" the dowager demanded. "Miss Eversleigh, why are you facing the window? What is he about?"
Grace twisted back around, hand over her mouth. "I'm sure I do not know. "
The dowager's eyes narrowed. "I think you do know. "
"I assure you," Grace said, "I never know what he is about. "
"Never?" Jack queried. "What a sweeping comment. We've only just met. "
"It feels like so much longer," Grace said.
"Why," he mused, "do I wonder if I have just been insulted?"
"If you've been insulted, you shouldn't have to wonder at it," the dowager said sharply.
Grace turned to her with some surprise. "That's not what you said yesterday. "
"What did she say yesterday?" Mr. Audley asked.
"He is a Cavendish," the dowager said simply. Which, to her, explained everything. But she apparently held little faith in Grace's deductive abilities, and so she said, as one might speak to a child, "We are different. "
"The rules don't apply," Mr. Audley said with a shrug. And then, as soon as the dowager was looking away, he winked at Grace. "What did she say yesterday?" he asked again.
Grace was not sure she could adequately paraphrase, given that she was so at odds with the overall sentiment, but she couldn't very well ignore his direct question twice, so she said, "That there is an art to insult, and if one can do it without the subject realizing, it's even more impressive. "
She looked over to the dowager, waiting to see if she would be corrected. "It does not apply," the dowager said archly, "when one is the subject of the insult. "
"Wouldn't it still be art for the other person?" Grace asked.
"Of course not. And why should I care if it were?" The dowager sniffed disdainfully and turned back to her breakfast. "I don't like this bacon," she announced.
"Are your conversations always this oblique?" Mr. Audley asked.
"No," Grace answered, quite honestly. "It has been a most exceptional two days. "
No one had anything to add to that, probably because they were all in such agreement. But Mr. Audley did fill the silence by turning to the dowager and saying, "I found the bacon to be superb. "
To that, the dowager replied, "Is Wyndham returned?"
"I don't believe so," Grace answered. She looked up to the footman. "Graham?"
"No, miss, he is not at home. "
The dowager pursed her lips into an expression of irritated discontent. "Very inconsiderate of him. "
"It is early yet," Grace said.
"He did not indicate that he would be gone all night. "
"Is the duke normally required to register his schedule with his grandmother?" Mr. Audley murmured, clearly out to make trouble.
Grace gave him a peeved look. Surely this did not require a reply. He smiled in return. He enjoyed vexing her. This much was becoming abundantly clear. She did not read too much into it, however. The man enjoyed vexing everyone.
Grace turned back to the dowager. "I am certain he will return soon. "
The dowager's expression did not budge in its irritation. "I had hoped that he would be here so that we might talk frankly, but I suppose we may proceed without him. "
"Do you think that's wise?" Grace asked before she could stop herself. And indeed, the dowager responded to her impertinence with a withering stare. But Grace refused to regret speaking out. It was not right to make determinations about the future in Thomas's absence.
"Footman!" the dowager barked. "Leave us and close the doors behind you. "
Once the room was secure, the dowager turned to Mr. Audley and announced, "I have given the matter great thought. "
"I really think we should wait for the duke," Grace cut in. Her voice sounded a little panicked, and she wasn't sure why she was quite so distressed. Perhaps it was because Thomas was the one person who had made her life bearable in the past five years. If it hadn't been for him, she'd have forgotten the sound of her own laughter.
She liked Mr. Audley. She liked him rather too much, in all honesty, but she would not allow the dowager to hand him Thomas's birthright over breakfast.
"Miss Eversleigh - " the dowager bit off, clearly beginning a blistering set-down.
"I agree with Miss Eversleigh," Mr. Audley put in smoothly. "We should wait for the duke. "
But the dowager waited for no one. And her expression was one part formidable and two parts defiant when she said, "We must travel to Ireland. Tomorrow if we can manage it. "