Page 27 of A Marriage of Convenience with a Rake
He caught up with Matthew by the gate and they rode into the woods together.
“So,” Matthew asked casually. “How do you fare? I mean, well, in your new status?” He raised his eyebrow, suppressing a grin.
Sebastian sighed. “I wish that I had the faintest idea,” he told Matthew. Matthew chuckled.
“All new, eh?” he asked. “Well, I can’t imagine what it’s like. Best not to ask me anything, old fellow. I haven’t a clue of how any of this works.”
Sebastian smiled. “Me neither, old fellow. I thought it was all fairly easy.” He paused. “But it isn’t. I mean, some things are,” he added, reddening, “but trying to make her like me is impossible.”
“As it should be,” Matthew said with a smile. “We can’t make people like us, old chap. They do or they don’t. Anything else is dishonesty.”
“Mm.” Sebastian let out a breath. “But, well...I think mayhap she might like me, if she knew me.” He frowned, realizing he’d never even thought about this before. “I just don’t know where to begin.”
“Nor do I, old chap. But she does.”
“Sorry?” Sebastian blinked. That made limited sense to him. He frowned at Matthew as they reined in, riding one behind the other down a narrow stretch of path. As Matthew rode alongside him again, he cleared his throat.
“I mean, old chap, that perhaps the best thing to do is let her start the talking. Find something that she likes—music, poetry, art, Heaven alone knows what it is—and start there. She’ll doubtless start talking away about it and then you can get to know her a bit better. Stands to reason that neither of you know each other. Best place to start, old chap. Best place to start.”
“Not a bad plan,” Sebastian murmured. He frowned, gazing about. They rode down a wide path in the woodland, the boughs overhead casting shadows on the bare, leaf-covered ground. The more he thought about it, the more Matthew’s idea made sense. She knew him no better than he knew her—he was quite right. He should find something to talk about. That would do the trick.
What might she like? he asked himself as they turned to find another path. Music, perhaps, or art, or gardening. That was it! She loved gardens and flowers. He already knew what his answer was.
He was grinning as they rode on.
The ride took almost all the morning, and when they rode back, it was lunchtime. Sebastian felt his stomach knot with hunger as he stabled his horse.
“Give him some bran mash, and rub down his tendons, please. Both horses. They did valiant work today.”
“Yes, my lord,” the groom replied, already heading into the barn.
“You ought to stay for lunch,” Sebastian offered to Matthew, somewhat uncomfortably. Lunch would be the first time he could speak to Eleanor without anyone else being there and he didn’t really wish for Matthew to stay, but he was a guest, and he did not want to seem rude.
“No trouble, old fellow,” Matthew said, smiling. “I’d best return. I am absolutely famished,” he added, as his stomach grumbled loudly, a sound Sebastian couldn’t help but hear.
“I’ll tell you what,” Sebastian said, an idea coming to him. “We had a fine pie last night. I’ll go into the kitchen and ask if there’s any left and bring it out to you.”
“Grand. Thank you, Glenfield. That would be welcomed.”
Sebastian smiled and hurried off to the kitchens. Mrs. Teller, the cook, had worked at the manor house since Sebastian’s childhood. She was old, now, and one of the few staff-members who still remembered him as a boy. He went into the kitchen by the back door, grinning as she let out a whoop.
“I spy you there, master!” she greeted him with a grin. “No thieving, mind.” She shoved him playfully away from the table where she was preparing jam tarts.
He grinned back. “Just one, Mrs. Teller?”
She chuckled. “Of course, my lord. Take as many as you like. They’re for tea, later, mind, and you’ll spoil your appetite for lunch.”
“What’s for lunch?” Sebastian asked, taking two jam tarts and biting into one himself as he stood there. He was starving.
“Roast beef, young man,” Mrs. Teller told him firmly. “And I saw that.”
He laughed, swallowing the mouthful. “I am sure you did, Mrs. Teller. I’ll take another to my friend who’s waiting outside, if you don’t mind over much.”
She chuckled. “You can take all of them, of course, my lord,” she told him with a smile.
“Just two,” Sebastian answered and hurried out to join Matthew. “And perhaps a slice of the delicious pie you made yesterday.”
“Flattery, eh?” Mrs. Teller grinned. “Gets you everywhere.” She went to the pantry and produced two slices of cold pie, wrapping them in a clean cloth for Sebastian.
