Page 63 of Duke of Emeralds
He studied her a moment then added, “You seem happier, Hester. The child—she is well?”
She nodded, surprised by the tenderness in his voice. “Better every day,” she replied. “She is clever though still very shy. I think she will come to like it here.”
He nodded, and for a moment, a comfortable silence spread between them.
Then he added, “Ye know, it’s not too late to travel back and enjoy the season if ye want it.”
She looked up, startled. “You mean… to Town?”
“Aye,” he said. “Ye could see yer family, finish out the season. No one would blame ye for wanting a taste of the old life.”
She considered this, and to her surprise, she felt a small flutter of longing. Not for London but for the ease of her old world where everything was arranged, and the risks were minimal. “Perhaps I shall,” she said. “It would do me good to see Mama and Leonard. And Arabella could use the experience.”
Thomas smiled, and she felt an unfamiliar ache open inside her. “Thank you, Thomas,” she said.
He waved it off. “It’s nothing. You’re free to do as ye like.”
She stared at him, the urge to say something honest—something dangerous—bubbling beneath her ribs. Instead, she shifted the subject. “Did you want another carrot?” she asked, holding out the plate.
He took one, grinned, then produced a pair of small cards from his breast pocket. “Actually, I need your opinion. For the studio. These are color swatches.”
She took the cards, holding them to the light. One was a deep, slate blue. The other was the color of late summer grass.
“Which do you prefer?” he asked. “I can’t trust my own taste. Mrs. Smith said I should leave these matters to you.”
She laughed. “I think either would make excellent wallpaper. But the blue is more dignified.”
He grinned, a touch conspiratorial. “That’s my own preference, but I wanted to see if you’d agree.”
She studied the cards then glanced up at him. “Is there a reason you are so invested in the walls of a studio you claim is just for drawing?”
He shrugged, but there was something cagey in the set of his mouth. “It’s just a room, Hester.”
She nodded but was unconvinced.
He reached for the bowl again, and she caught his wrist, slapping his hand lightly. “Wait for dinner,” she admonished.
“It’s not fair,” he said. “You get a meal now, but I’m to starve till evening?”
“Mistress of the house, remember?” She grinned.
Thomas gave her a mock salute. “Impish woman,” he said, but it was clear he meant something else entirely.
She set the bowl on the table and, after a moment, pushed it in his direction. “Fine,” she said. “Share it with me.”
He took a carrot, and they stood there, side by side, eating in companionable silence.
After a while, she looked up at him. “When do you want to leave for Town?”
He turned to the window, thinking. “Whenever ye like, Duchess. I’m not coming with you, but you can leave any day.”
She stared at him. “You… you aren’t coming?”
He shook his head, absently tracing the rim of the bowl with his finger. “Too much to do here,” he said. “I’ve business with Bailey, and… well, Arabella’s happier with you. I’d only get in the way.”
The disappointment hit her, sharp and sudden. She masked it with a smile. “Of course,” she said. “You always did prefer the wilds of the country.”
CHAPTER 28
