Chapter Sixteen #2
They sailed through the doors, Hugo and Tia following them.
That left her with Reddington. He took her hand and slipped it through the crook of his arm.
“It is a pleasure to walk with you this Christmas Day, Lady Verina.”
Their group walked at a leisurely pace, so she saw no need to try and catch up with the others.
“I am glad we decided to walk,” she said. “If not, I fear I would already be napping by the fire now.”
“Would that be such a terrible thing?” he asked, smiling at her. “Especially if you are next to good company.”
Neither of them said anything more after that. Verina simply relished being in his company, leaning into his warmth. Contentment filled her, and she hoped it did the duke, too.
After an hour of strolling about Merrifield, Hugo turned them back in the direction of the house.
As they reached it, Tia said, “I would ring for tea to warm us, but the servants are all celebrating now. I do not wish to inconvenience them.”
Hugo said, “I would make tea for you, love, but I have not a clue how to do so.”
“I confess I do not know how to, either,” Tia said. “Does anyone?”
“I do,” Reddington said, surprising them all. “Do you not recall how I used to make tea for us in our rooms at university, Hugo?”
“That is right. You did!”
“I can do so now so that we do not disturb your servants. However, it should not be tea for six. We should go ahead and make enough for the others, as well.” He glanced down at Verina. “My lady, would you be willing to assist me?”
Verina knew this would finally give them a few moments alone together, and she said, “I am happy to do so, Your Grace. Simply tell me what you need me to do.”
“Only tea, Your Grace,” Tray said, as they entered the front door. “I could not eat anything more, else the buttons might pop off my waistcoat.”
Everyone laughed. The others headed upstairs to the library, while Reddington led her to the kitchens. When they reached them, she could hear the sound of laugher in the distance, coming from the servants’ hall.
“It seems the servants are enjoying their holiday meal. Do you truly know how to brew tea?”
“I do. There are many things I have had to learn from a young age, Verina. Making tea is simply one of them.”
She noticed he addressed her by her Christan name again. She did not correct him because she liked hearing her name coming from his lips.
“The first thing we must do is put a couple of kettles of water on to boil.”
He did so and then moved to where the teapot stood. Unlike the one at Traywick Manor, which was kept under lock and key by the housekeeper, this teapot was easily accessible.
The duke took the tea leaves and chopped them with a sharp knife. She watched his long, lean fingers, remembering how they had cradled her cheeks.
He turned—and she believed he was thinking of the same thing. He placed his palm alongside her cheek.
“I am going to miss you very much, Verina,” he said, his voice husky.
“We shall see one another at the Season,” she told him, her voice faint, as she grew dizzy from his touch. “I have thought about our kiss. Often,” she admitted.
The corners of his mouth turned up. “Have you?”
She nodded. “And I believe I would like another kiss from you, Your Grace. One for me to remember you by until we meet again this coming spring.”
He gazed at her a long moment. Then his hand shifted, taking her chin and tilting it up toward him. He bent, pressing his lips against hers, causing a hunger to grow within her. Without thinking, she brought a hand up, cupping his nape, holding him to her.
She felt his smile against her mouth and smiled herself. Then he broke the kiss, taking her hand from his nape and tenderly dropping a kiss into the center of her palm. He turned her hand over and brushed his lips against her knuckles, sending a rush of chills through her.
“I would like to kiss you for hours, Verina,” he admitted.
“You are not ready for the kind of kisses I wish to give you, however. I know how important it is for you to have the Season you have longed for your entire life. I want you to experience that, my darling. But know that I intend to be your most fervent suitor.”
Suddenly, a Season did not mean very much to her. Not when this man stood before her, and a deep yearning filled her.
He turned away from her, though, as one kettle began to whistle, and then the other did. He carefully measured the tea leaves and placed them into the strainer, placing one inside each kettle, allowing the tea to steep.
Together, they silently prepared a tray.
He put the silverware, tongs, pitcher of milk, and a bowl of sugar upon it, while she added cups and saucers.
Then he collected the two kettles and placed them upon a different tray.
They carried these two trays up to the library, where Tia and Her Grace poured out for them.
The entire time, Verina could feel the duke’s fingers on her chin. His lips against hers. His mouth pressed into her palm.
And with no doubt at all, she knew they belonged together.