People burp when they're full—there's nothing unusual about that.
But for a young woman to burp in front of a man—especially the man who happened to be the lord of House Claydon and Baron of Eagle Territory—was quite the scandalous breach of decorum.
Fiona's face flushed crimson. She shrank into herself, her heartbeat racing, her gaze flitting in panic without focus, as if she might disappear under the floorboards if she concentrated hard enough.
Old Gordon's face turned a liverish shade of purple. Shocked, embarrassed, and enraged, he was just about to scold Fiona when Rus cleared his throat.
"Looks like everyone's had enough to eat."
Truthfully, Gordon had barely touched his food, but by now his appetite had vanished.
"Well then," Rus continued, loosening his napkin. "Since we're full, let's move on to business." At his cue, the maids swiftly removed the dishes and poured glasses of after-meal red wine.
Old Gordon resumed his report.
