Page 133 of If the Slipper Fits
Still, that angel’s voice didn’t belong to cook. He made his way toward the kitchen, fairly certain of who he would find.
The mouthwatering scent of fresh baked bread wafted over him as he stepped foot in the warm, sunlit room. A gleaming silver pot of coffee sat atop the counter beside a mound of thick sliced bread, butter and confiture, and assorted fruits. His stomach loosed a low rumble, reminding him he’d neglected dinner last night. When had he eaten last?
He was still pondering the question when his raven-haired sister-in-law burst into the kitchen through the back door opening to the gardens. A plethora of fragrant blossoms and greenery spilled from the apron she held out in front of her like a basket.
She offered Caden a warm smile of welcome as if she, and not he, lived here. “Good morning. I hope we didn’t wake you.”
“We?”
As if in answer, a sober-faced Zeke trailed in after her.
“Ah. May I?” He gestured toward the spread they’d prepared.
“Please.” She rummaged in a drawer, finally locating a small utility towel.
“Your hospitality knows no bounds,” he said dryly.
Ignoring his sarcasm, she lay the small towel atop a clear section of counter and began sorting her clippings.
“When Zeke told me he planned to pay you a visit this morning, I asked to tag along to get a look at your gardens. Though sadly overgrown, they boast numerous herbs and other leafy greens, in addition to the myriad flowers.”
“Fascinating.” He poured himself a cup of coffee then selected a slice of still warm bread. “Would either of you care to join me?”
Zeke grinned. “Don’t mind if I do.”
Soon, he and Zeke sat across from one another at the scarred wooden butcher block style table in the kitchen’s center.
Caden took a bracing sip of steaming black coffee and felt some of the night’s cobwebs fall away.
“You have something you wish to discuss, Zeke? If it’s a report on the status of the quarry you’re after, I’m afraid I won’t have much to share for several weeks. I’ve increased production and brought on more workers to see to some much needed road repairs, but the other projects will require those road repairs completed to make transport to specific locations feasible.”
Zeke eyed him over the rim of his cup, a considering expression on his face. After a moment, he set the cup down with a decisive click.
Out of the corner of his eye, Caden saw Kitty turn her back on her work to face them, arms clasped behind her.
Caden glanced between the two of them. “Is everything all right with the earl?”
“The earl is fine,” Zeke replied.
Caden nodded in relief. So he was to be the recipient of a stern talking-to for some unknown reason, likely the fact he’d moved into the decrepit cottage, something each member of his family had tried to dissuade.
“You may as well get on with the lecture. I’ve a busy day ahead.”
Zeke opened his mouth to speak, but Kitty beat him to whatever he intended to say.
“Zeke simply wanted to check-in on you. Make certain you're sleeping and eating, that sort of thing.”
“Zeke, eh?” He leaned back in his chair and sipped more coffee. “Right as rain, as you can see.”
Kitty’s dubious expression said she disagreed. “Cook says you’ve barely eaten any of the evening meals she’s prepared.”
“It’s been two days. I’ve been working late. I’m sure when I’m not exhausted, my appetite will rebound to surpass your wildest expectations.”
In true Kitty fashion, she continued unabated. “You’re more than a bit rumpled, as well. We'll send over a valet.”
“If you like.” He ripped a piece of bread and slathered it with butter and jam.
She glanced pointedly at Zeke who appeared not to notice her scrutiny.
