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Dorian sighs. “Let it be. I will find something else.”

“No. It’s fine.”

His brow creases slightly. I take the knife, sink it into the Double Gloucester, and spread it on the bread. I bite again.

This time it is better.

“You put effort into it.”

“Yes, yes...” he mutters.

The chair scrapes softly against the floor as he sits too. He takes one of the darker slices, breaks it with his fingers, and brings it to his mouth. He chews once, then again.

“You are fastidious.”

“I wouldn’t say so.”

His foot finds mine under the table and nudges me. I bring the cup to my lips. Dorian pushes away the burnt bread and takes a pear. He chews, then looks at me.

“Tell me something, Viscount.”

“What is it you wish to know?”

“You don’t like sweets, do you?”

I tilt my head, blindsided by the question.

“No. Why?”

“I noticed you avoid them.”

Another bite of the pear.

“And yet, the chocolate offered to you by Brownell... you tasted that.”

I rest a hand on my chin. “You are singularly attentive to Nathaniel. I feel almost neglected.”

I slide my foot against his, returning the nudge.

“You didn’t answer.”

“That is the only exception.”

His hand stops mid-air. “Brownell?”

I smile. “The chocolate.”

I take another bite of bread, chewing with obstinacy. “Perhaps I like it more than the cello.”

His eyebrows rise. “More than the cello?”

I nod. “And do not think for even an instant of showering me with other gifts.”

He runs a hand through his hair, his fingers staying caught a second too long. “I cannot give you tokens?”

“It isn’t necessary.”

Dorian interlaces his fingers and rests his chin on them.