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“Perhaps…” Jonathan’s eyes held a gleam. “If you join us for that stroll later.”
“Very well. If we can find a suitable chaperone, I shall join you both on a stroll. But only if you both eat every bit of salad on your plate.”
“You drive a hard bargain, my lady,” Jonathan said.
“Those are my terms.”
Jonathan picked up his salad utensil and moved the lettuce leaves around on his plate. Finally, he speared a cherry tomato and popped it in his mouth.
“Easy way out, Jameson,” Polk said. “Everyone likes tomatoes.”
“And that won’t get you anything anyway,” she said. “You must each finish every bit on your plate.”
“Fine,” Polk groused. He speared a cucumber and a lettuce leaf and shoved it into his mouth.
“And?” Tricia said.
Polk swallowed. “Tastes like dirt,” he said.
She raised her eyebrows. “And you eat dirt often?”
“Not since I was a lad, again. Everybody eats dirt at some point.”
Tricia chuckled. “Try to enjoy the freshness of the greens. They taste of the earth. That’s what makes them so special.”
Jonathan took a bite of his, chewed, swallowed. “Not half bad actually, Polk. With the vinaigrette and all.”
“Speak for yourself.” Polk took another bite, grousing again.
However, while making the most perfectly disgusting faces, both gentlemen did finish the salads.
Which meant…Tricia had to live up to her end of the agreement. But only if a suitable chaperone was found. How would it look though, for two different gentlemen to be escorting her?
She chuckled to herself. Who cared, anyway? The only man she wanted was happy to take her to bed but had basically told her he would marry her without love.
The footman who was assigned to their portion of the table cleared the dishes, raising his eyebrows at the three empty salad plates in front of Tricia, Lord Polk, and Jonathan.
“I see we’ve surprised you, eh, lad?” Jonathan said.
The footman simply bowed.
Tricia couldn’t help giggling. The gentlemen weren’t used to eating such roughage, and they would feel the effects in the loo on the morrow.
Of course, a lady shouldn’t be thinking of such things.
“What exactly is so funny, my lady?” Polk asked.
“Nothing, nothing.” She wiped her lips daintily. “You shall find out tomorrow.”
“Well, then I look forward to it,” Jonathan said. “I love a good laugh.”
And that only made Tricia laugh harder.
23
The dessert selection was a choice between a delicate apple tart with a flaky pastry crust served warm with a dollop of clotted cream and a trifle layered with sponge cake, fruit, custard, and Chantilly cream.
Thomas chose the apple tart. It was one of his favorites, and he had requested it this evening.
