Page 22 of The Wise Daughter
He sat across from her and helped himself to a scone. “I think Honora is elegant and dignified, a timeless beauty, but if you prefer Nora I’m happy to oblige.”
“Thank you, Your Gr–”
“Aaron.”
She only nodded. Formality, whether he was pleased with it or not, must be her shield until she knew him better. He would have to remain His Grace. Aaron, though a fine name, would not roll off her tongue the way the name of her intended should. She would only say it if the word rolled with ease.
She sampled the warm scone, the buttery flavor melting over the thought of his name on her tongue. “Where is my father? Will he not be joining us for breakfast?”
“I sent him with Carver this morning to a neglected portion of land that I intend to trust to him, assuming he proves himself capable. The old manor that sits on that land is in need of attention before it will be fit to dwell in, so your father and Carver will return with their recommendations for repairs and improvement.”
“How efficient.” She had to admire his prompt efforts to fulfill his promises, but she was more impressed that he had inspired her father to action so quickly. “Either you or Mr. Carver must have been very persuasive. I’ve never known my father to be an early riser.”
“I don’t think it took much coaxing. Mrs. Bloom’s scones have been known to motivate many a person, including myself.” He placed another on his plate and added a large spoonful of cream. “I’ll admit, I was especially motivated to send your father off early so you and I could spend time together.”
“I see.” The words sounded thin as they left her lips.
Surely, the sudden onslaught of heat beneath her skin was only the lingering effect of having worn his coat too long.
“I have often thought it is much easier to show one’s true character outside the watchful gaze of a chaperone.”
She arched a suspicious brow at this and imagined other ladies he had charmed with such a statement. “Whether that is true may depend on one’s disposition. I find it takes time to show one’s true character regardless of who is watching. Or it may simply depend on fresh scones.” She took another large bite.
His smile returned, and his observant gaze left her wishing the fire snapping on the logs would settle a little.
He gestured to the two teapots. “I didn’t know whether you prefer tea or chocolate, so I asked for both.”
“Thank you.” Nora glanced between the two pots. She wasn’t sure her father even knew which she preferred. “I prefer chocolate on cold days and special occasions. I think becoming engaged qualifies.”
Oh dear.Why was she drawing attention to their agreement?
“I’m glad to hear you are celebrating.” He poured them each a cup and gulped as she sipped, apparently unbothered by the heat. “If I have the notion for chocolate, I simply have it. Why save what you love for only special occasions?”
“Because then I tend to value them more. When I reserve them for special occasions, they are that much sweeter and meaningful to me.”
When he finished his third scone, he dabbed at his lips with his napkin. “The truth is, I rarely was able to indulge in things like fresh scones and cups of chocolate while I attended school abroad. With that all behind me, I see no reason to deny myself the pleasure now.”
Nora noticed his words tugging slightly at swelling in his lower lip, renewing her sympathies for him. It was no wonder that the rumors Nora had heard about this man were often at odds with each other. Minutes ago, he had shown her how vast his land was. Now, he was explaining how modestly he had grown up.
She observed him for as long and as often as she could without him noticing, studying the outlines of his face, searching for the truthbehind those features. She sat in constant expectation that he would say something important, ask something entirely too personal, or worse, attempt to express physical affection, but he seemed just as hungry as she was and only asked simple things like which tea she preferred (Chamomile with honey), what she liked to do in the mornings (take long walks, rain or shine), and what she enjoyed reading (everything, but especially poetry).
When Nora was finished with her breakfast, she decided it was time to discuss more important matters. “Your Grace, have you any suspicions as to who the thieves are?”
“I was wondering when you would raise that issue.” He looked hesitant to answer her question, then looked around as if checking for listening ears. They were completely alone. “None that are particularly helpful. Whoever is behind it must have easy access to the castle.”
“Someone among your staff?”
“I very much hope not, but I don’t see how it could not be so. The thieves have a knack for taking things of sentimental value.”
“Then there must be at least one among them who knows you well.”
“That is what I fear.” He grimaced again. Whether from pain or the thought of the thieves being one of his servants, she couldn’t tell.
“Have you considered hiring a thief-taker?”
“Truthfully? No. My understanding is that half are thieves themselves who require exorbitant payments.”
She nodded. “That is my understanding as well. I see no use bringing yet another stranger into the castle.” She had meant herself. She was a stranger, but the jest fell flat, even on her own ears.
