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“How was your journey?" he asked.
"You don't have to make small talk with me," she said. "I don't like it, and I'm not very good at it."
They paused at the shade of portico, beside a sweet-scented bower of roses. Casually Lord St. Vincent leaned a shoulder against a cream-painted column. A lazy smile curved his lips as he looked down at her. "Didn't Lady Berwick teach you?"
"She tried. But I hate trying to make conversation about weather. Who cares what the temperature is? I want to talk about things like... like..."
"Yes?" he prompted as she hesitated.
"Darwin. Women's suffrage. Workhouses, war, why we're alive, if you believe in séances or spirits, if music has ever made you cry, or what vegetable you hate most..." Pandora shrugged and glanced up at him, expecting the familiar frozen expression of a man who was about to run for his life. Instead she found herself caught by his arrested stare, while the silence seemed to wrap around them.
After a moment, Lord St. Vincent said softly, "Carrots."
Bemused, Pandora tried to gather her wits. "That's the vegetable you hate most? Do you mean cooked ones?"
"Any kind of carrots."
"Out of all vegetables?" At his nod, she persisted, "What about carrot cake?"
"No."
But it's cake."
A smile flickered across his lips. "Still carrots."
Pandora wanted to argue the superiority of carrots over some truly atrocious vegetable, such as Brussels sprouts, but heir conversation was interrupted by a silky masculine voice.
"Ah, there you are. I've been sent out to fetch you."
Pandora shrank back as she saw a tall msn approach in a graceful stride. She knew instantly that he must be Lord Sy. Vincent's father- the resemblance was striking. His complexion was tanned and lightly time-weathered, with laugh-lines at the outer corners of his blue eyes. He had a full head of tawny-golden hair, handsomely silvered at the sides and temples. Having heard of his reputation as a former libertine, Pandora had expected an aging roué with coarse features and a leer... not this rather gorgeous specimen who wore his formidable presence like an elegant suit of clothes.
"My son, what can you be thinking, keeping this enchanting creature out in the heat of midday?”