“No? Well, I am certainly nothing compared to you. Come on, now, tell me.”
He described Tortola to her, and St. Thomas. He told her of mangos and how they tasted. He mentioned Diana Savarol and Lyon, the Earl of Saint Leven. “I married them at sea,” he said, grinning in fond recollection. “Perhaps we will meet them. Who knows?”
“How could that happen? We will go our own ways when we reach London.”
“Well, not immediately. Have you no curiosity, Victoria? Don’t you wish to know where I’m taking you in London?”
She grinned, an impish grin that brought forth a dimple in her right cheek. “I decided that I should act uninterested in the entire matter. That way, you would tell me all that much sooner.”
He handed her another slice of peach and watched her eat it. A drop of peach juice trickled down her chin and he leaned forward and dabbed it off with the tip of his napkin. Victoria didn’t move. She cocked her head to one side, merely staring at him.
He said abruptly, “You remember the Earl of Saint Leven I mentioned?”
“Yes, and Diana, his countess.”
“I’m taking you to the earl’s great-aunt, Lady Lucia. I have never met the lady, but Lyon told me all about her.”
Victoria chewed that over in silence. “What if she doesn’t want to take me in?”
“I shall be my charming self. How could a lady, any lady, refuse me?”
“I certainly wouldn’t,” she said with alarming candor, “but that is no test, surely. Oh, dear, what if she doesn’t like me? She doesn’t know me either, Rafael. What if she takes me into aversion?”
“Don’t worry before you have to,” he said, wiping the peach juice from his fingers.
“Why do you and Damien dislike each other?”
He stared at her. “That is a disconcerting habit you have.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. You ask a question entirely out of context. Does your victim usually spurt out an answer before thinking?”
She sighed. “No, just Damaris.”
“Who is Damaris?”
“Why, she is your niece. She is three years old and could easily pass for your daughter as well. She loves me and I miss her dreadfully.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Obviously the reason you didn’t know is that you and the baron haven’t spoken. For five years?”
“A bit longer, actually.”
“Why?”
“Don’t pry, Victoria. A lady strives to keep impertinent comments and questions behind her teeth.”
“David did too.”
He blinked. “Who is David and what did he do too?”
“David Esterbridge, the son of Squire Esterbridge.”
“I remember him. He was a paltry boy, as I recall, always whining when he lost at a game. Of course, to be fair, he was somewhat younger than I. What does he have to do with anything?”
She sat back in her chair. “I believe that that is an impertinence.”