“You sound as though you were wounded.”
“No one likes to be rebuffed.”
He placed his elbow on the table and leaned toward her. “Why did you invite me?”
She angled her chin haughtily. She wasn’t about to reveal that he’d always intrigued her. “It seemed the polite thing to do.”
He had the audacity to laugh, and she was struck by how joyous a sound it was. As though he were truly amused, as though he suspected she’d not told the entire truth.
“Here I thought you invited me because you possessed a touch of wickedness and wanted to play with the devil. You believe it important to be polite?” he asked.
“I do. At all times. For example, it’s very rude to place your elbow on the table while we’re eating. I have to question whether or not you, as well as Frannie, need lessons in manners.”
“I promise you. When the situation warrants it, I have impeccable manners.”
“So you say. Perhaps I need proof. Do you think it would be possible for the three of us—you, Frannie, and me—to have dinner here one evening? Are your servants familiar with all that is necessary to serve guests?”
“I should think they are. The old gent hired only the best.”
“You never refer to him as your grandfather.”
“As you well know, he wasn’t.”
“Are you absolutely sure?”
He dropped his gaze to the table, and only then did she realize that she’d leaned forward, placing her elbows, both of them—Drat it!—a much worse offense, on the table. She straightened. “You’re avoiding my question.”
“The old gent’s son and his wife had taken their six-year-old son to see a menagerie. The son and his wife were found murdered in an alley surrounded by garbage. I should think—if I was that child—I would not soon forget watching the horror of my parents being killed.”
“Unless you ran off, unless you didn’t see it.”
He seemed to ponder that for a moment, then shook his head. “I should still remember them. I don’t.”
“But the names Lucian and Luke are so much alike—”
“Coincidence.”
He was infuriating in his determination not to believe he was the rightful heir. For reasons she couldn’t explain, she wanted him to be—desperately. She didn’t want him to be a scoundrel who’d stolen what rightfully belonged to another.
“Who are your parents then?”
“I haven’t a clue. In my mind, it’s as though I didn’t exist before Jack took me to Feagan.”
“So you could be the lad.”
“It’s inconceivable that I could be.” He pressed his fingers to his brow. “When Jack took me to him, Feagan would have recognized by my attire that I was of quality. He would have taken advantage.”
“Perhaps your clothes were tattered by the time you were—”
He slammed his hand down on the table, making her jump. “Why are you determined to make me who I am not?”
“The very first Earl of Claybourne was granted his title for services to king or queen. He earned the right to pass that title on to his son. If you’re not a descendant of that first earl—as much as I like you—it’s a disgrace for you to hold the title.”
“As you’re well aware, I live for disgrace.”
“No, you don’t. You talk as though you do, but your actions show you to be a liar. You’re much more honorable than you give yourself credit for.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I suppose you think I should give the title to Marcus Langdon.”
“It’s not a matter of giving. It’s a matter of to whom it rightfully belongs.”
“The old gent believed it belonged to me. Out of respect for his wishes, I shall hold it until my dying breath.”
She couldn’t believe her disappointment in his words, or her relief. For all the reasons she gave for why he shouldn’t be earl, she had to admit that she couldn’t envision anyone else as the Earl of Claybourne.
Sighing heavily, he rubbed his temples. “How in God’s name did we fall into this argument?”
“Is your head starting to hurt again?”
“A bit. It’ll go away. And speaking of going away, I should get you home.”
She was surprised to discover their omelet was gone, although he’d eaten the lion’s share. She heard a distant bump and a thump.
“My servants are getting up,” he said.
They both stood. He walked around the table, took her cloak from the chair, moved behind her, and draped it over her shoulders. His hands seemed to linger, and she almost imagined that she felt him placing a kiss against the nape of her neck. A delicious little shiver cascaded through her.