Brows rising, she leaned in. “Oh, I am so envious. Tell me everything. Was the food as delicious as I’ve heard? Did you meet Chef Mourier? And did he melt Gruyère on top? I’ve seen other chefs use various cheeses, but Angelo and I agree Gruyère works best.”

Kit drank his bourbon and studied her in fascination. She’d come alive discussing lobster thermidor, of all things, her face now radiant and her eyes sparkling. Who would’ve guessed it? This was a very different person than the girl who’d clung to her mother’s side after dinner, not speaking to anyone. This Alice was intelligent and passionate, brimming with excitement.

When he didn’t answer, she shrank in her chair and shook her head. “I must be making a fool of myself. Ignore me. Please, go on with the lesson.”

“You are not making a fool of yourself,” he rushed out. “I am merely admiring your enthusiasm. I had no idea you were so passionate about food.”

“I’m not. I like to eat.” Her hand shook as she brought the crystal tumbler to her lips. She took a small sip of the spirits, then grimaced. “Oh, that’s terrible.”

“Give it time. The taste will grow on you—sort of like Gruyère.”

She snorted a laugh, and then covered her mouth. “That was unladylike. Forgive me.”

Had she any idea of how adorable she was? Warmth slid through him, a heat unrelated to the bourbon. “It was genuine. I liked it.”

“My mother would be horrified. She hates the way I laugh.”

“Considering the circumstances”—he gestured to the two of them—“I think that would be the least of her concerns.”

“True.” She attempted the bourbon again, but didn’t appear to like it any better the second time. “May I ask you questions now?”

“I am at your disposal, Miss Lusk. Ask away.”

Drawing in a deep breath, she held out another piece of paper. “Here they are.”

“You wrote your questions down?” He put his glass on the table and accepted the paper. “Were you worried you’d forget them?”

Spots of color dotted her cheeks and high on her chest. He tried—unsuccessfully—not to stare at her décolletage, which promised perfect apple-shaped breasts. Not that she noticed, considering her gaze was fixed firmly on her lap. “I thought it might be easier.”

He found her embarrassment charming, but it was cruel to prolong her torture. “We may proceed in whichever manner you prefer. Tonight I’ll read your questions.”

There were four questions, the penmanship incredibly neat. He could almost imagine her laboring over the words, wondering over his answers. He cleared his throat. “How are you able to converse with people so easily?” The side of his mouth hitched. “I’ve never thought about this before. Do you mean with women?”

“Men or women.” She clutched her crystal tumbler. “Just people in general.”