He looked away before she could notice the direction of his gaze.
She rested her elbows on the slab and leaned her chin on both her palms.
He picked up the goblet and took a sip. It was hot, but not scaldingly so.
Her eyes never left him until they began to close on their own.
Then after a few minutes of dozing off in the uncomfortable position, her head fell forward and she woke up with a start.
"Blast!" He heard her curse under her breath.
He smirked.
The damn woman was bent on punishing herself.
Then, she dozed off again.
"Lady Whitmore?" He called.
No response.
He tapped the slap.
She only tilted her head but continued her doze.
He drank the rest of the broth in a single swim and set the goblet down. Then he went around the table and tapped her gently.
She jerked as though she had seen some horrendous monster.
When she was out of it, she flushed crimson and steadied herself.
"Forgive me." She murmured, arranging her robe that slipped out of place.
"Go to bed."
