The Sum Of All Kisses Part 11

Good heavens, he was frustrating. And the worst part was, she wasn't even sure if he was joking now. Nevertheless, she cleared her throat and said, "You were meant to have a normal conversation."

"I'm not sure the two of us have normal conversations."

"I can a.s.sure you, I do."

"Not with me." This time he did smile. She was sure of it.

Sarah straightened her shoulders. Surely the butler must be calling them in to supper soon. Perhaps she ought to start offering her prayers to him, since the other Him didn't seem to be listening.

"Oh, come now, Lady Sarah," Lord Hugh said. "You must admit that our first meeting was anything but normal."

She pressed her lips together. She hated to acknowledge his point-any of his points, really-but he did have one.

"And since then," he added, "we have met but a handful of times, and always in a most superficial manner."

"I had not noticed," she said tightly.

"That it was superficial?"

"That we had met," she lied.

"Regardless," he continued, "this is only the second time we have exchanged more than two sentences with each other. The first I believe you instructed me to remove the world of my presence."

Sarah winced. That had not been her finest moment.

"And then tonight . . ." His lips moved into a seductive smile. "Well, you did mention poison."

She leveled a flat stare in his direction. "You should mind your tooth powder."

He chuckled at that, and a little electric thrill jolted through her veins. She might not have got the best of him, but she had definitely scored an acknowledged point. Truth be told, she was starting to enjoy herself. She still disliked him, only partly on principle, but she had to admit that she was having, perhaps, just the tiniest amount of fun.

He was a worthy adversary.

She hadn't even realized she wanted a worthy adversary.

Which did not mean-good G.o.d, if she was blushing at her own thoughts she was going to hurl herself out the window-that she wanted him. Any worthy adversary would do.

Even one without such nice eyes.

"Is something wrong, Lady Sarah?" Lord Hugh inquired.

"No," she replied. Too quickly.

"You look agitated."

"I'm not."

"Of course," he murmured.

"I'm-" She cut herself off, then said disgruntledly, "Well, now I am."

"And here I hadn't even been trying," he said.

Sarah had all sorts of retorts to that, but none which would leave him without an obvious parry of his own. Maybe what she really wanted was an only slightly less worthy adversary. Just enough brains to keep it interesting, but not so much that she would not always win.

Hugh Prentice would never be that man.

Thank G.o.d.

"Well, this looks like an awkward conversation!" came a new voice.

Sarah turned her head, not that she needed to see the speaker to recognize her ident.i.ty. It was the Countess of Danbury, the most terrifying old dragon of the ton. She had once managed to destroy a violin with nothing but a cane (and, Sarah was convinced, sleight of hand). But her true weapon, as everyone knew, was her devastating wit.

"Awkward, yes," Lord Hugh said with a respectful bow. "But growing less so with each pa.s.sing second now that you are here."

"Pity," the elderly lady replied, adjusting her grip on her cane. "I find awkward conversations to be very diverting."

"Lady Danbury," Sarah said, dipping into a curtsy, "what a lovely surprise to see you this evening."

"What are you talking about?" Lady Danbury demanded. "This should be no surprise at all. Chatteris is my great-grandnephew. Where else would I be?"

"Ehrm," was all Sarah got out before the countess demanded, "Do you know why I made my way across the entire room, specifically to join the two of you?"

"I cannot imagine," Lord Hugh said.

Lady Danbury shot a sideways glance at Sarah, who quickly put in, "Nor I."

"I have found that happy people are dull. You two, on the other hand, looked ready to spit nails. Naturally I came right over." She looked from Hugh to Sarah and then said plainly, "Entertain me."

This was met with dumbfounded silence. Sarah stole a look at Lord Hugh and was relieved to see that his usual bored expression had been cracked with surprise.

Lady Danbury leaned forward and said in a loud whisper, "I have decided to like you, Lady Sarah."

Sarah was not at all certain this was a good thing. "You have?"

"Indeed. And so I will give you some advice." She nodded toward Sarah as if granting an audience to a serf. "You may feel free to share it at will."

Sarah's eyes darted to Lord Hugh's, although why she thought he might come to her aid she could not say.

"Our current conversation notwithstanding," Lady Danbury continued imperiously, "I have observed you to be a young lady of reasonable wit."

Reasonable? Sarah felt her nose wrinkling as she tried to figure that out. "Thank you?"

"It was a compliment," Lady Danbury confirmed.

"Even the reasonable part?"

Lady Danbury snorted. "I don't know you that well."

"Well, then, thank you," Sarah said, deciding this was an excellent time to be gracious, or at the very least, obtuse. She glanced over at Lord Hugh, who looked mildly amused, and then back at Lady Danbury, who was eyeing her as if she expected her to say something more.

Sarah cleared her throat. "Ehrm, was there any reason you wished me to know of your regard?"

"What? Oh, yes." Lady Danbury thumped her cane on the ground. "Despite my advancing age, I forget nothing." She paused. "Except occasionally what I've just said."

Sarah kept her face fixed with a blank smile and tried to tamp down a gnawing sense of dread.

Lady Danbury let out a dramatic sigh. "I suppose one can't reach the age of seventy without making a few concessions to it."

Sarah suspected that seventy missed the mark by at least a decade, but there was no way she was going to make this opinion public.

"What I was going to say," Lady Danbury continued, her voice dripping with the long-suffering tones of the endlessly interrupted (despite the fact that she was the only one who had been talking), "is that when you expressed surprise at my presence, which we both know was nothing more than a feeble attempt to make conversation, and I said, 'Where else would I be?' you should have said, 'Apparently you don't find polite conversation very diverting.' "

Sarah's lips parted and hung there in an astonished oval for a full two seconds before she said, "I am afraid I can't follow you."

Lady Danbury fixed her with a vaguely aggravated stare before saying, "I had told you that I found awkward conversations to be very diverting, and you said that nonsense about being surprised to see me, then I quite rightly called you foolish."

"I don't believe you called her foolish," Lord Hugh murmured.

"Didn't I? Well, I thought it." Lady Danbury thumped her cane on the carpet and turned back to Sarah. "At any rate, I was only trying to be helpful. There's never any point spouting useless plat.i.tudes. Makes you seem a bit like a wooden post, and you don't want that, do you?"

"It really depends on the location of the wooden post," Sarah replied, wondering how many wooden posts one might find in, say, Bombay.

"Well done, Lady Sarah," Lady Danbury applauded. "Keep sharpening that tongue. I expect you'll wish to keep your wits about you this evening."

"I generally wish to keep my wits about myself every evening."

Lady Danbury gave an approving nod. "And you-" She turned to Lord Hugh, much to Sarah's delight. "Don't think I've forgotten you."

"I believe you said you forget nothing," he said.

"So I did," Lady Danbury replied. "Rather like your father in that regard, I expect."

Sarah gasped. Even for Lady Danbury, this was audacious.

But Lord Hugh proved to be more than her match. His expression did not change in the least as he said, "Ah, but that is not the case at all. My father's memory is relentlessly selective."

"But tenacious."

"Also relentlessly."

"Well," Lady Danbury declared, thumping her cane on the carpet. "I expect it's time to call him off."

"I have very little control over my father, Lady Danbury."

"No man is without all resources."

He tipped his head in a tiny salute. "I did not say that I was."

Sarah's eyes flicked back and forth so fast she was getting dizzy.

"This nonsense has gone on long enough," Lady Danbury announced.

"On that point, we are in agreement," Lord Hugh replied, but to Sarah's ears, they were still sparring.

"It is good to see you at this wedding," the elderly countess said. "I hope it portends peaceful times to come."

"As Lord Chatteris is not my great-grandnephew, I can only a.s.sume that I was invited out of friendship."

"Or to keep an eye on you."

"Ah," Lord Hugh said, one corner of his mouth sliding into a wry curve, "but that would be counterproductive. One would a.s.sume that the only dastardly deed for which I might need monitoring would involve Lord Winstead, who, as we both know, is here at the wedding."

His face resumed its normal inscrutable mask, and he regarded Lady Danbury unblinkingly until she said, "I believe that is quite the longest sentence I have ever heard you utter."

"Have you heard him utter many sentences?" Sarah inquired.

Lady Danbury turned to her with a hawkish expression. "I'd quite forgotten you were there."

"I have been uncharacteristically quiet."

"Which brings me to my original point," Lady Danbury declared.

"That we are awkward?" Lord Hugh murmured.

"Yes!"

This, predictably, was met with an awkward pause.

"You, Lord Hugh," Lady Danbury declared, "have been abnormally taciturn since the day you were born."

"You were there?" he queried.

Lady Danbury's face screwed up, but it was obvious she appreciated an excellent riposte, even when directed at her. "How do you put up with him?" she asked Sarah.

"I rarely have to," Sarah replied with a shrug.

"Hmmph."

"She has been a.s.signed to me," Lord Hugh explained.

Lady Danbury's eyes narrowed. "For someone so uncommunicative, you're quite pithy this evening."

"It must be the company."

"I do tend to bring out the best in people." Lady Danbury smiled slyly and swung around to face Sarah. "What do you think?"

"Without a doubt you bring out the best in me," Sarah proclaimed. She'd always known when to say what someone else wanted to hear.