“About the size of a very small orange,” he added. Condescendingly. “Or a somewhat massive strawberry.”

“I know what a cubic inch is.”

“Of course you do.”

And the bizarre thing was, he didn’t sound the least bit condescending when he said that.

“Did you injure your knee?” she asked, because drat it all, now she was curious. “Is that why you cannot bend it?”

“I can bend it,” he replied, “just not very well. And no, there was no injury to the knee.”

Sarah waited several seconds, then said, primarily between her teeth, “Why, then, can’t you bend it?”

“The muscle,” he said, letting one of his shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. “I suspect it doesn’t stretch the way it ought, given that it’s missing two cubic inches of, what did you call it?” His voice grew unpleasantly droll. “Ah yes, a chunk of flesh.”

“You told me to ask,” she ground out.

“So I did.”

Sarah felt her mouth tighten. Was he trying to make her feel like a heel? If there were any official society rules for how a gentlewoman was meant to behave with a partially crippled man, they had not been taught to her. She was fairly certain, however, that she was supposed to pretend that she did not notice his infirmity.

Unless he required assistance. In which case she was supposed to notice his limp, because it would be unforgivably insensitive to stand aside and watch him flounder. But either way, she probably wasn’t supposed to ask questions.

Such as why he couldn’t bend his leg.

But still. Wasn’t it his duty as a gentleman not to make her feel awful about it when she flubbed?

Honoria owed her one for this. Honoria probably owed her three.

Three of what, she wasn’t sure, but something large. Something very large.

They sat there for another minute or so, then Hugh said, “I don’t think your sister is coming back with cake.” He motioned very slightly with his head. Frances was waltzing with Daniel. The expression on her face was one of utter delight.

“He has always been her favorite cousin,” Sarah remarked. She still wasn’t really looking at Hugh, but she sort of felt him nod in agreement.

“He has an easy way with people,” Hugh said.

“It is a talent.”

“Indeed.” He took a sip of his wine. “One that you possess as well, I understand.”

“Not with everyone.”

He smiled mockingly. “You refer to me, I presume.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to say, Of course not, but he was too intelligent for that. Instead she sat in stony silence, feeling very much like a fool. A rude fool.

He chuckled. “You should not chastise yourself for your failure. I am a challenge for even the most affable of people.”