Page 33 of A Marriage of Convenience with a Rake
“I know a little,” Eleanor answered, looking up shyly from under her lids. “I wish I knew more. I could read all day on the topic and not tire of learning of it.”
“I see,” Sebastian repeated. An idea was starting to form in his mind.
“Mama and I rather enjoyed it. We would plan all the flowerbeds and make a list of what we needed, and then take the list to the gardener. Papa would always complain about the price, but he always bought everything happily and then enjoyed being in the garden more than anyone else.” She giggled.
“That sounds nice.” Sebastian smiled to himself. “You have any siblings? Besides your brother, I mean.” He recalled meeting a young man at her home. He hadn’t made any real impression—Sebastian could barely recall what he looked like, never mind if he’d seemed a nice sort or not.
“No. It’s just me and my brother. And Mama and Papa.”
“That must have been pleasant,” he said slowly. “Having a large family, I mean. It was just Papa and me.”
“That must have been sad,” Eleanor murmured. He chuckled.
“No, not really. I mean, perhaps for Papa. But I had never known my mother and so it was not sad for me. Papa and I were very close. That is why...why...” he stammered. His throat was tight with feelings. He tried to suppress the fear he felt, but sometimes it overwhelmed him.
“I know,” Eleanor replied softly, reaching for his hands. He squeezed her fingers tightly. “I know you are close. And I am sure he will be with us for a long while in the future.”
“I hope that is true,” Sebastian admitted. He swallowed again. They had discussed his father’s condition continuously for the last two days. The doctor had said that his father had suffered an apoplexy—the term seemed to refer to anything that caused a sudden loss of consciousness. What exactly had happened to Papa, they still did not know, but he was recovering slowly. He could sit up and his breathing was easier, though he was exhausted.
“I will sit with him after lunch,” Eleanor offered.
“No, let me,” he replied at once. He realized his hand was still in hers and felt warmth creep into his cheeks. “I would be glad to. You sat with him all evening yesterday.”
“I was happy to talk with him,” Eleanor replied softly.
“You are kind,” Sebastian breathed. He had been amazed by her in the last few days—she had no reason to be kind to him, and yet she had supported him thoughtlessly. She also had no reason to be so thoughtful to Papa, and yet she sat with him for hours, holding his hand, helping him to drink water if he neededit, fetching him books and the paper when he wished to read.
“It is nothing,” she said gently. “I am happy to spend time with him. I rather like your father. He’s funny.”
“He is,” Sebastian agreed warmly. He felt his heart twist. His father had always been able to make him laugh. They had argued often in the last few years—Papa had not approved of his lifestyle, but Sebastian had known no other way to be, because anything else had only dragged him down with its wearying boredom. He blinked in surprise. Since coming to know Eleanor, he had not been bored for an instant. He felt his lips lift in a smile.
“I can take him some soup,” she suggested. Sebastian nodded.
“Mayhap. But first you must eat. We have not yet partaken of this delicious roast.” He lifted the lid on the second dish that the butler had brought up for them. She breathed in and he saw her smile.
“I would be pleased to try some of that.”
“Me, too.”
They ate the main course of roast beef with baked potatoes, and after eating only a little of her dessert, Eleanor pushed back her chair.
“I will go and check on Lord Ramsgate,” she said swiftly, standing up.
“You have some cherry syrup on your chin,” Sebastian replied. A thin streak of bright red syrup had spilled on her chin from her dessert. He smiled as she tried to wipe it off.
“Let me help,” he said, standing and taking a napkin. He dabbed at it gently, his heart thumping fast.
“Thank you” she whispered.
He swallowed hard. Suddenly it was hard to breathe. Her lovely face was tipped up towards him, her soft hair still partly loose. She was so close, and he longed to kiss her. He tensed, notwanting to scare her. She still barely knew him, and he would not impose on her. Not until she knew him well enough to feel comfortable around him.
“I will retire to my study to work,” he said softly, trying not to bend down and press his lips to hers.
“I will sit with Lord Ramsgate,” she said softly. “Perhaps he will be able to eat some of the mushroom soup.”
“Perhaps. Thank you,” Sebastian replied, trying to breathe. His every nerve tingled. He watched as she turned, ladling some soup gracefully into one of the bowls the butler had placed on the trolley. Then she turned back to him.
“I will see. Perhaps,” she murmured.
