Page 40 of A Marriage of Convenience with a Rake
He grinned. His eyes seemed to shine when he looked at her, a glow of tenderness kindling there. She looked down at her hands, feeling impossibly awkward. It was, she had to admit, notan altogether uncomfortable feeling. Her stomach knotted with a sort of delicious embarrassment; her entire body flooded with heat under his gentle stare.
“Shall we take breakfast outdoors?” he asked lightly. “It is such a pleasant morning. It would be nice to enjoy it.”
“Yes,” she stammered, making herself meet his stare. “It would be nice.”
“Good.” He smiled at her. “I will inform the butler. I will go and see that Papa is resting well, too,” he added. “You must take as much time as you wish to get dressed.”
“Thank you,” she murmured. She felt a tension she hadn’t known she held relax as he went to the door and strode out into the hallway, shutting it softly behind him.
She sighed and slipped out of bed. She wore her long nightdress, which covered her body down to her ankles, but it still seemed very intimate. It was loose and shapeless, and she wore nothing under it—no shift or chemise. She had asked Amy to bring her clothes into the main chamber for her. She dressed herself hastily, feeling impossibly shy. Everyone in the household would know.
She glanced at herself in the looking glass. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, the yellow gown bringing out the hazel tone of her eyes. She looked softly pretty, and her eyes glowed, her cheeks pink. She felt her heart glow.
Let them speculate, she thought with a grin. She was happy.
She went to the small nightstand and took her hairbrush, brushing her hair slowly. She was adept at making an informal bun by herself and she pinned it up swiftly, then slipped on her shoes and walked slowly down the hallway. The terrace that he meant them to use was the upper terrace, she guessed—the big one outside the dining room and ballroom was still shaded, but the upper terrace caught the morning sunshine. She tiptoed up the hallway shyly and paused in the doorway next to thebreakfast room.
“Good morning,” Sebastian greeted her again. He was sitting at the white-painted table on the terrace, sipping tea. Before him was laid out a simple meal of pastries of different sorts. Eleanor felt her stomach twist with hunger, and she walked over. He beamed at her, making her blush.
“This is a pleasant breakfast,” she murmured, drawing out her chair.
“I find it so,” he said, his gaze lingering on her.
She swallowed hard. Her heart thrummed with a mix of shyness and happiness. She reached for the teapot.
“Good morning,” a voice called from behind them. “Good morning, Miss Eleanor. Son! You’re up too early.”
“Papa!” Sebastian was on his feet even as Eleanor, whose back was to the door, tried to stand. “You should be in bed.”
“Lord Ramsgate...”
“Now, I’m just fine,” Lord Ramsgate argued with them both gently. He walked slowly over to the table, drawing out a seat beside Eleanor, across from his son. “It’s time I got some movement in these old legs, or they’ll seize up altogether, and I’ll be bound to stay abed.”
“My lord,” Eleanor objected, but he smiled at her.
“I’m fine, my dear. You have been a good nurse. But it’s time I got on my own feet and started doing things again. It’s too tempting to lie there and let you baby me for the rest of my born days.”
She giggled as he smiled.
“Papa, at least you should keep out of the breeze,” Sebastian countered.
“No, son. I’m quite well. I haven’t got a fever. I think the fresh air can only do good. Not so, Miss Eleanor?”
“Well...” Eleanor blushed. She didn’t want to argue—Sebastian was right, he ought to stay out of the cold. But if heinsisted on coming outside, she could not very well tell him not to.
“Good. I’ll just sit here awhile, then. Do me good, it will. Some tea?”
“Oh. Of course,” Eleanor said hurriedly, pouring a cup of tea for him. He took it from her, sipping slowly. He smiled contentedly.
“That is good.”
“Not too much, Papa,” Sebastian warned. “The physician said that anything that could alarm your nerves is not good.”
“My old nerves need some alarming, young man!” The Marquess grinned, and reached for his cup, sipping with enjoyment.
Eleanor struggled not to chuckle with delight. The older man was clearly fully recovered, and he was helping himself to pastries with a relish. She was happier than she could say to see him back in full health.
“Papa...” Sebastian countered, but it seemed he, too, had not the heart to say his father could not enjoy a full breakfast on the sunny terrace. He sighed and leaned back, watching as the Marquess tucked into a jam-filled pastry.
