He pretended to consider this. “How much do you have?”
“For shame, Mr. Bridgerton. You’re avoiding the question.”
“Of course I would,” he said quietly. “She’s my little sister. Mine to torture and mine to protect.”
“Isn’t she married now?”
He shrugged, gazing out across the park. “Yes, I suppose St. Clair can take care of her now, God help him.” He turned, flashing her a lopsided smile. “Sorry.”
But she wasn’t so high in the instep to take offense. And in fact, she surprised him utterly by saying—with considerable feeling, “There is no need to apologize. There are times when only the Lord’s name will properly convey one’s desperation.”
“Why do I feel you are speaking from recent experience?”
“Last night,” she confirmed.
“Really?” He leaned in, terribly interested. “What happened?”
But she just shook her head. “It was nothing.”
“Not if you were blaspheming.”
She sighed. “I did tell you you were insufferable, didn’t I?”
“Once today, and almost certainly several times before.”
She gave him a dry look, the blue of her eyes sharpening as they fixed upon him. “You’ve been counting?”
He paused. It was an odd question, not because she’d asked it—for heaven’s sake, he would have asked the very thing, had he been given the same bait. Rather, it was odd because he had the eerie feeling that if he thought about it long enough, he might actually know the answer.
He liked talking with Lucy Abernathy. And when she said something to him…
He remembered it.
Peculiar, that.
“I wonder,” he said, since it seemed a good time to change the topic. “Is sufferable a word?”
She considered that. “I think it must be, don’t you?”
“No one has ever uttered it in my presence.”
“This surprises you?”
He smiled slowly. With appreciation. “You, Lady Lucinda, have a smart mouth.”
Her brows arched, and in that moment she was positively devilish. “It is one of my best-kept secrets.”
He started to laugh.
“I’m more than just a busybody, you know.”
The laughter grew. Deep in his belly it rumbled, until he was shaking with it.
She was watching him with an indulgent smile, and for some reason he found that calming. She looked warm…peaceful, even.
And he was happy to be with her. Here on this bench. It was rather pleasant simply to be in her company. So he turned. Smiled. “Do you have another piece of bread?”
She handed him three. “I brought the entire loaf.”