Page 27 of A Rake's Redemption
Inis affected a puzzled expression. “Ye cannae remember if ye like cream and sugar?”
Caroline kept her smile in place. “It is polite to pour the cream and add the sugar and then hand the finished cup to the guest.”
Inis pointed to the tray of tiny, open-faced watercress sandwiches. “Do I put the food on one of those small plates?”
“One does not point,” Caroline said. “And, no, you do not touch the food itself.”
Inis shrugged. “’Tis nae much food anyhow. Did the cook forget to put something on top of the leaves?”
The corners of Caroline’s mouth pinched, although she continued to smile. Inis felt a small twinge of guilt in acting so daft, but she couldn’t afford to let either Caroline or Alex find out she was anything but a poor orphan with no proper etiquette skills.
“No,” Caroline answered. “They are meant to whet the appetite.”
“Do ye mean to make ye more hungry?” Inis gave her a confused look. “That does nae make much sense, does it?”
Caroline’s smile almost faltered. “Well, it is tea, not dinner. Go ahead and pour, please.”
Inis felt Alex watching her intently, although he hadn’t said a word. She wondered if he was mentally evaluating her. She picked up the teapot, making sure her hand shook a little, and held the spout over one of the fine, bone-china cups, filling it almost to the rim and sloshing some tea over the side. She saw Caroline suppress a sigh and felt another twinge of guilt. She had nothing against the woman, but the longer she could drag out this training, the longer it would take for Alex to decide to actually present her in Society.
“Cream and sugar?” she asked.
“I doubt there is room,” Caroline said and took the cup quickly, probably thinking Inis would only spill more tea if she lifted it.
Inis turned to Alex. “My lord?”
“Ah…no. I am fine.”
Inis suppressed a smile as she set the teapot down. Alex more than likely thought she’d spill half of it on his tailored coat, since he’d actually changed clothes for the tea-serving lesson. She was tempted to spill tea on herself, but she was wearing one of the new day dresses and truly did not want to ruin it with a stain.
Instead, she plucked a watercress sandwich off the tray, not bothering to put it on the small plate as would have been proper, and stuffed the whole thing into her mouth.
…
After yesterday’s lesson debacle, Caroline had suggested waiting a few days before attempting another. Alex could hardly blame her. She often mocked the proper proprieties of thetonherself, but she’d made a superb effort to be totally correct yesterday while tutoring Inis in the etiquette of pouring tea. It hadn’t turned out well.
The lesson probably had not been any easier on Inis. She hadn’t looked very comfortable in her new dress, but then she was accustomed to wearing breeches. He’d most likely feel the same way if he had to wear a kilt. Alex had also seen the way Inis’s hand shook as she lifted the teapot. She’d probably never even see a full silver service before. She was much more confident and assured working with horses.
Which was why he’d decided to invite her to go riding with him today.
His bay gelding was already saddled when he got to the stables. He could hear Inis in Goldie’s stall, and he was tempted to help her saddle the filly, but he didn’t want to have her think he had doubts in her ability in the one area she really was good in.
A moment later, she led Goldie out and over to the mounting block. Alex wanted to stirrup his hands for her—the idea of touching her leg as he helped her mount made his groin tighten—but he held off, sensing she’d not appreciate his help. He waited until she was in the saddle before he vaulted onto the bay’s back and joined her.
“Thank ye for asking me along,” Inis said as they started toward Kensington Gardens.
“The weather today is mild for the end of February,” Alex replied, “I thought you would enjoy it.”
“Aye. Goldie will, too.” Inis patted the filly’s silky neck. “She has gotten tired of going round the paddock.”
“Jameson tells me she’s going through her paces quite nicely,” Alex answered. “I wish I had more time to come and observe you—I mean observe the horse—myself.” His face warmed at the blunder he’d almost made. Hell fire. He never blushed.
Inis didn’t appear to have noticed the slip. “I ken ye are busy at your office with the different businesses ye run.”
Alex couldn’t tell her he wasn’t all that busy with business. With the exception of his trust fund, the rest of the Ashley business holdings were part of the duchy, for which George was ultimately responsible. The only reason Alex oversaw anything was because he’d quadrupled the value of his trust fund in the last five years. George didn’t like taking chances or assuming risks, but he’d grudgingly admitted Alex had an uncanny ability for investing. Although Alex hired accountants who were as painstakingly meticulous, being at the office was a good excuse to keep him from trailing after Inis like a mooncalf.
“With the wars being over on both the Continent and the States, there are a lot of business ventures opening up,” he said.
Inis nodded. “Lots of Irish went to America before the war broke out.”
