“My family is busy.” He lifted a shoulder. “They are notunsupportive,but we do not always have time for each other like we used to. It is well enough, though.”
“Tell me of your siblings.” She rested her chin on one hand, fixing him with a look that he could not escape.
Seth looked into those warm eyes that made him think of roasted chestnuts or hot coffee. “I was asking about you.”
“You want to be friends,” she pointed out. “It is only fair I know a few things about you.”
“Do not think I will forget I still have unanswered questions about you,” he warned her.
“Well?”
Her persistence made his smile expand. There was no doubting this was one stubborn woman, but then he supposed she had to be, being an intellectual woman trying to make it in a man’s world.
“I’m closest to my younger sister, Angel. She is a bit of a free spirit.” His lips quirked when he recalled having delivered her to her new ‘job’ and how overly dramatic she had been about it. He had no doubt she would thrive as she always did. “We are most alike, I think.”
“And you have two older siblings, do you not?”
He peered at her. “Have you been researching me as well as the law?”
“Do not be silly.” Her cheeks colored slightly. “It is hard to avoid the news of one of the most prominent families in the country.”
“Ah. I suppose you have read about me a few times in the gossip columns.”
She straightened her spine. “I try not to read them.”
But he could tell she did. The staunch, uptight Miss Hastings most definitely read the gossip columns. “Let me assure you most of it is untrue…or exaggerated.” He grinned. “For the most part.”
Miss Hastings rolled her eyes. “Your older sister, what is she like? I do not hear much about her.”
“Minerva is rather like you. Prefers books to people. She will be infinitely jealous of my time spent here.”
“I like the sound of her.”
“And finally there’s Theo—the Marquis of Eastbrook. He is a pretty serious chap. I think his wife sapped him of any sense of humor he had long ago.”
“Yes, I heard he was widowed.” A slightly sad note hung from the last word that made Seth look at her more intensely. It didn’t sound just like the sadness of a woman expressing sympathy.
“He tries his best to keep us all in line but doesn’t always manage.” Seth laughed. “I do not envy him that job much.” He lifted his hands. “So there we go, you know of my family. Now tell me more of you.”
“T-there is little more to tell.” She tapped the cover of the book. “We should get back to work.”
He took her hand and slid it from the book. A strange tingling sensation ran through his fingers and up his arm. He released her hand instantly and stared at his own fingers then hers, then up to meet her gaze. Mouth ajar, those creases of puzzlement sat between her brows. She peered at her hand again then shook her head marginally.
“Your number skills, do they work in other ways?” he asked swiftly, aware of the choked nature of his voice. He touched women’s hands with regularity. Why would touching Miss Hastings’ hand feel so odd?
“What do you mean?” Her voice held that same strangled note.
“Well, can you use it to add things up?”
She glanced down at her lap. “Well…” Biting down on her bottom lip, she lifted her head. “You may find this strange…”
“Any stranger than being able to count things with a glance?”
“I suppose not.” She smiled. “I am able to add things with ease. Even big numbers.”
“So if I asked you what two-hundred and fifty thousand, six hundred and thirty plus thirty-three thousand and forty-nine added up to?”
“I would tell you that that is two-hundred and eighty-three thousand and six-hundred and seventy-nine.“