She could walk away, but one was supposed to acquiesce to an employer’s demands, even the unreasonable ones. She turned, found the smallest, most uncomfortable chair, and brought it over to the other side of the desk, facing him across the heavily laden tray. “I’ve already eaten, my lord,” she said again, her patience wearing thin.
He was watching her, a cynical amusement in his eyes. “Not much, I wager. You need fattening up.” He handed her a delicate silver utensil. “You’ll have to make do with the cake fork, I’m afraid since Cook… beg pardon, Mrs. Harkins… didn’t realize you’d be dining with me. In the future would you please have her set two places on my dinner trays.”
“Your wife will join you?” she said hopefully.
“My wife would rather eat dead rats than look at me while she eats. And I’m bored—I require company if I’m to eat regular meals. So just add that to your list of onerous duties, Mrs. Greaves.”
She looked at him, startled. “You expect me to take my meals with you?”
“Just supper. If I happen to be home. Don’t worry—it will be all business. My wife is too… delicate to deal with the running of the household, so you’ll need to report to me. Do you like fish?”
The added question startled her. “Yes.”
“Good.” He took the bread plate and placed a healthy portion of the truite meunière on it, along with the turnip and minted potatoes. The smell was divine, and Bryony realized she hadn’t eaten very much of Mrs. Harkins’s nourishing but bland stew.
She couldn’t sit there and eat his dinner. It was simply… wrong. She tried again. “I’m really not hungry…”
“And I really don’t care. Eat.” Beneath all that affability there was a note of steel in his voice, at odds with his well-honed charm, and Bryony picked up her fork.
It was delicious. Meltingly so, and Bryony let out a soft moan of appreciation as she savored it. And then she realized Kilmartyn hadn’t touched his food, he was watching her with hooded eyes and a faint smile. There was an odd heat in his eyes, something she didn’t recognize.
“Do you realize you look and sound positively orgasmic when you eat something wonderful?” he said softly.
She shouldn’t ask, she knew it, but she couldn’t let it go. “Orgasmic? I’m not familiar with that term.”
For a moment he stared at her blankly, then he leaned back in the chair and hooted with laughter. Bryony’s back stiffened, and she set down her fork, thoroughly annoyed. “I’m glad you find me so entertaining, my lord. I’m gratified to know I’ve relieved your boredom.”
He was still laughing when he sat forward, tears in his eyes. “I think I’ll wait and explain that term a little later in our relationship, Miss Greaves.”
“Mrs. Greaves, my lord,” she corrected him gravely.
He merely smiled, and took a bite of the fish left on his plate. He closed his eyes for a moment, then looked at her. “Definitely orgasmic. Pray give Mrs. Harkins my compliments.”
“I will, my lord.”
“Could you cease all the ‘my lord’-ing?” he said. “I’ve told you to stop. It’s becoming tiresome.”
“I could say ‘your lordship,’” she offered.
“Jesus, no. That’s even worse,” he said, and she flinched at his casual curse. “Don’t call me anything.”
“Whatever you wish, my—” She stopped herself with an effort. There was a reason to use titles in any conversations. It made the class distinctions clear, and she didn’t want to slip and start talking to him like an equal.
“Whatever I wish, eh?” he murmured. “Eat your trout—it’s too good to waste.”
She finished the portion on her plate, being careful not to make any more signs of appreciation that he could comment on. He ate lazily, leaning back in
his chair, picking at his food, then finally set the plate back on the tray. “That’s enough,” he said. “It’s more than I usually eat.”
His portion had been smaller than hers, and he had a goodly amount left. “You didn’t like the fish?” she said with a sinking heart. After all, overseeing the food was her responsibility.
“The fish was delightful. I just don’t eat much.”
“You should make an effort. It’s not healthy to live off your own nervous energy.”
“Worried about me already, Miss Greaves? I’m touched. If I need to eat I will. Food is easy enough to come by if people have the means.”
“And if they don’t?”