“So do I, but it’s an interesting favorite food, you cannot deny it.” She didn’t pause for his response. “What is your favorite book?”

“Candide.”

She sucked in her breath. “You’ve read Voltaire?”

“I have.”

“You’re teasing me.” She plucked at the ribbon on the flowers. She’d been doing a great deal of plucking in his company of late. He’d never noticed that about her before.

“No, I’m not teasing,” he replied. “I’ve read Candide at least three times. If you care to quiz me on its contents, my lady, I’m at your disposal.”

She paused for a moment before saying, “Oh, no. That’s silly.”

“Yes, but you considered it just now, didn’t you?”

“How could you tell?”

“You had a certain look on your face. A competitive look. I’ve seen it before.”

She pushed her nose into the air. Very fetching, that. “I only considered it because I enjoy discussing books.”

His grin returned. “As do I.”

“You do?”

“Don’t look so surprised. Contrary to what you might think, I actually enjoy books.”

She bit her lip. “Books have always been my closest friends. At least they were when I was a child. They were my only friends. Though now, happily, I have Lucy and Cass.”

“And me.” His voice was soft.

She averted her gaze, still plucking at the ribbon.

Garrett spoke again to fill the silence. “Why were books your only friends when you were a child?”

Her fingers stilled. “You don’t want to hear about that.”

Settling back in his chair, he crossed his booted feet at the ankles. “Yes I do. I’ve got all the time in the world. They’re planning a hunt today and I’d rather be boiled in oil than go hunting.”

Jane shook her head at him. “That may be, but would you rather sit here and listen to me? You could be doing a host of other things.”

“I’m delighted to sit here and listen to you.” If he didn’t know better, he could have sworn she blushed again. He could get used to making her blush. She was adorable when she did so. “Tell me, Jane. Why were books your only friends?”

She sighed and her shoulders lifted and fell. “Suffice it to say, I wasn’t a popular child.”

“I wasn’t either.” He snorted. “I only had a small set of friends I ran with at Eton and—”

“No. I mean to say I had no friends. None whatsoever.”

He wrinkled his brow and looked at her. “None?”

“Not one. I was an only child and the house was quite lonely. Mama and Papa sent me to school at first, but the other children made such awful fun of me … Then Papa was knighted and I was tutored at home and I was so much happier.”