Chapter 28
twenty-eight
Tristan fixed his white bow tie in the mirror again and straightened the silver forks on the table. Not that they needed to be straightened. Harris had made sure the silverware were each set at the perfect distance between each utensil and the plates.
Being alone in the dining room was a novelty.
Usually, there were at least three or four people, even when he ate on his own.
Harris and a footman would always stand next to him, ready to serve.
But he’d promised Effie discretion. The table had been set before her arrival, and the food was warm and ready to be served.
He paced the entry hall until a knock on the door stopped him.
He wasn’t ready. Perhaps he should call the deal off and let Effie be free of him.
He opened the door and she swept into view, taking a shy step inside.
His breath caught. Her capelet was open on the front, showing her Oxford blue gown.
It had a plunging neckline and a fitted bodice that emphasised her curves and lovely eyes.
The diamond studs on her lobes and silver silk slippers made her look like a spectacular winter starry night.
Everything about her was spectacular, from her luscious chestnut curls to the way the top of her breasts lifted with each breath. Her lips looked glossy and plump, and her cheeks showed a delicate blush he found irresistible.
She quietly entered and shut the door. “Good evening.” Her voice sounded small.
“Welcome.”
As they stared at each other, he’d never felt as small and insignificant as in that moment. She was all golden light and brightness while he belonged to the shadows.
“Follow me.” He led her into the dining room, with its soft candlelight and intimately set table.
She gazed around before tugging at her capelet. He rushed to help her and take the soft garment off her naked shoulders.
“Thank you.” She handed him her purse as well.
He didn’t know what the hell to do with them, so he laid everything on a stuffed chair, turning his back to her to collect himself. “I trust you didn’t have problems coming here.”
“Not at all.”
The swish of fabric came. He faced her again. “The soup— What the hell are you doing?”
She was unbuttoning her dress. The sleeves already sagged down her arms.
She stopped, staring at him with unblinking eyes. “I’m getting ready.”
“For what?”
“For…you know.” Her face flamed red.
“For hell’s sake.” He released a breath through his teeth. “I’m not an animal.”
He buttoned her up and pulled up her sleeves, making a mess.
The satin was slippery, and the damn buttons were small and covered in silk.
Not to mention that he caught a glimpse of her corset, which threw kerosene on the fire of his passion.
If she undressed in front of him, he would kiss her and send for the vicar to marry her.
“You don’t have to remove your gown.”
She frowned in concentration as she finished buttoning her gown. “I don’t understand.”
He stretched out an arm towards the lovely table. “I want to have dinner.”
“Before we go to your bedroom?”
“No.” He held a chair for her. “There will only be dinner tonight.”
Her frown deepened.
“I’m serious. Just dinner,” he repeated. “I’m not going to touch you.” As much as it pained him.
“I don’t understand.” She sat down, head tilted up to stare at him.
“I want to have a nice dinner with you. That’s all.” Although from that position, standing behind her, he had an enticing view of her décolletage.
His fingers itched to stroke her creamy skin.
He served the soup, being careful not to spill anything. During his family’s hardest years, he’d learnt how to cook and serve. For the first time in his life, he was grateful for that.
She shifted on the stuffed chair. “But…”
“Yes?”
“I thought you wanted to have a tumble,” she whispered the last word.
“I do. More than anything. But we can spend some time together first and be civilised about our deal.”
“I think it’s a great idea.”
From her shaky voice, he didn’t understand if she meant that.
He watched her from his chair when she picked up the spoon as if it were a weapon.
“It’s not poisoned,” he said.
She let out a chuckle. “I’m nervous.”
“So I gathered.” He took his napkin. “Enjoy your dinner.”
She tasted the soup and paused. “It’s delicious.” She sounded as if she expected the opposite.
“Windsor soup. My cook’s speciality.”
“My compliments to your cook.” She took small spoonfuls, pausing often.
“You don’t need to stand on ceremony here with me,” he assured her. “If you’re hungry, enjoy the dinner. You don’t have to impress me. You already have.” He didn’t mean to sound so solemn, but he was nervous, too.
She smiled, and her whole expression changed. She relaxed her posture and enjoyed larger spoonfuls of the soup. The crackling of the fire filled the silence, and he wondered again if he should call the deal off and just have dinner with her.
He poured her a glass of wine, and she sipped it, half-closing her eyes.
“Papa told me you reversed some of your financial actions recently,” she said, drinking more wine.
“I’m a man of my word.” He shared a long stare with her and was glad she didn’t cower.
“Thank you.”
“I did it for you, certainly not for him. But you made me realise I was going too far. Still, I don’t believe in your father’s innocence.”
“That’s the whole point, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
A hint of sadness greyed her voice, and he regretted having brought up the subject. She helped herself to a slice of roast beef with asparagus and boletus porcini, another Cook’s masterpiece. She nodded when she tasted them.
“You like mushrooms,” he said.
“Love them, and these are exceptionally good. We often searched for mushrooms with my siblings in the country.” She let out a little moan when she drank the wine. “This wine is wonderful. What is it?”
“A rare Chateau Latour 1890 from Bordeaux. Those vineyards had a very cold spring in 1890, but the weather in autumn was excellent, not too cold, and not too dry, which resulted in the best vintage in over three decades. It has a strong…” He chuckled. “You probably don’t care about these details.”
“Quite the opposite. I don’t understand anything about wines, but I’m an expert in what I like. And I like this wine very much.” She took another sip. “Perfection, especially with the meat and mushrooms. What were you saying?”
“Chateau Latour is a powerful wine, rich and full of flavours, with cassis and leather notes.”
Her smile became wicked. “That’s how I would describe you.”
“I wouldn’t complain. I would be afraid you might use other adjectives.”
“No, I think I changed my mind about you.” She stared at him for a long, intense moment before returning to her dinner. “And which wine would I be?”
“A Gewürztraminer. It’s sweet with rose and peach notes, but one has to be careful because sometimes it stings.”
She laughed, a full, rich sound that made him laugh, too. “Now I’m curious to taste this wine. Do you have a bottle?”
“I do.” He rose and left the room, careful to close the door behind him. He entered the drawing room and rang the bell. His butler arrived a moment later.
“My lord.”
“A bottle of our best Gewürztraminer.”
Harris left. Tristan waited for him in the corridor. His butler had likely guessed who the secret guest was, but he’d promised Effie discretion.
Harris returned with a chilled bottle of wine. “My lord.”
“Thank you.” He was about to leave but paused when Harris smiled. “Is something the matter?”
Harris shook his head. “I’m glad to see Your Lordship happy.”
“Do I look happy?”
“Very much, my lord.”
He pondered Harris’s answer, not sure about what to say. “Thank you.”
Harris’s affection was something he would never take for granted again. So far, he’d dismissed his butler’s concern. Not anymore.
Harris bowed his head. “You’re most welcome, my lord.”
When Tristan entered the dining room, Effie was halfway through her roast beef.
“Here we are.” He poured her a glass, releasing the sweet fragrances of the wine. “We should wait before drinking it to let the wine breathe.”
“The scent is lovely.”
He placed the plate with cuts of cheese next to her. They were supposed to be for later after the dessert, but they would taste great with the wine. “Try it with these.”
“I didn’t expect such royal treatment.” She bit into a piece of cheese before sipping the wine.
“As I said, I’m not an animal.”
“I know, but the deal was clear, and I thought you wanted to do the deed as soon as possible. Heavens, this wine is delicious.” Her cheeks were flushed.
“We agreed to seven days of being in bed together. So tonight’s dinner doesn’t count.”
She remained silent for a moment before she burst out laughing. “You’re a skilled negotiator.”
“I learnt the trade one battle after another. And I would never make you uncomfortable.”
“Well, tonight, I’m very comfortable.” She popped into her mouth another piece of cheese.
He poured himself a glass of wine and watched her going through the dessert with gusto.
“Do you miss living in the country?” he asked.
“Very much. I could do whatever I wanted there, but then Papa remained alone in London after my elder siblings got married, and I decided to keep him company. As the youngest daughter of thirteen children, no one supervised me in the country. I mean, our governess and nanny were so busy they didn’t control me as they should have.
My sisters and I loved running around without shoes.
Papa hated that, but Mama said it was good for the feet.
In fact, I have strong feet.” She kicked off her shoes and wiggled her toes.
“I can pinch people with my toes. Do you want to see it?”
He lowered his glass, perplexed. She had always been bubbly and talkative, but her speech was now a little slurred. The two empty glasses of wine in front of her pointed at the obvious, although the glasses hadn’t been full to start with, and she’d been eating while drinking.
He put down his glass. “Are you used to drinking wine?”
She laughed. “Of course. Mulled wine, every Christmas.”
Bloody hell.
She went to fill her glass again, but he stopped her.
“Let’s stop drinking wine for now.”
She pouted. “But I want another glass. I haven’t finished the cheese.”
“What about some fresh air?” He rose and helped her out of her chair.
She staggered on her feet. “Fine, but I’m not putting my shoes on.”
“Lovely.” He held her by the waist and led her to the set of double doors opening to the garden.
The fresh air carried the scent of the honeysuckle and wet soil. London contributed to the bouquet with the smell of coal.
She sighed and sagged against him. “It was a little warm inside. This is better.” She snuggled closer to him, triggering a shower of shivers down his back.
“Yes, much better.”
They went down the short flight of stairs to the paved path. The starry sky was generous with its silver light, and the fresh breeze was heavy with the scent of the flowers.
“Do you feel sick?” He caressed the top of her head.
Her eyes looked droopy. “Not at all. But my head is a little light.”
“I’ll take care of that, too.”
He walked along the paved path through the flowerbeds. The movement and the fresh air should help her feel better. He would ask for some strong herbal tea as well.
Her soft body pressed against his. She probably wasn’t aware of what she was doing. Certainly, she had no idea of the hot turmoil her casual closeness ignited inside him. Guilt stung him because he was enjoying a gift she didn’t mean to give him.
“Do you still want to marry me?” Her voice came muffled.
“Yes, although you don’t know everything about me. If I learnt something about myself and you in the past months, it’s that, while I still wish to marry you, I might not be the right person for you.”
She raised her big eyes to him. “Why? What big secret are you hiding?”
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret.”
She exhaled. “If it’s your visits to the disorderly house, I know everything about them.”
“That’s interesting because I don’t know anything about them.”
“You can tell me the truth.”
He helped her sit on a marble bench under a willow tree. “I don’t go to a disorderly house. That’s the truth.”
“So you lied about having a mistress. She’s the Duchess of Norfolk, isn’t she?”
He just about suppressed a laugh.
“Effie.” He took her chin gently, wanting her full attention. “As I told you, I don’t have a mistress, least of all the Duchess of Norfolk.”
She leant into his touch. “You seem honest.”
“Because I am. I barely know the Duchess of Norfolk.”
“So what’s this big secret?” she asked.
“Something darker than a mistress and dirtier than a house of ill repute.” He caressed her chin. Her skin was so silky that not kissing it required all his control.
She frowned. “You don’t gamble, don’t attend opium dens…what can it be?”
“Nothing worth mentioning.”
“At least I won’t get the clap.”
He laughed, his belly hurting. “I don’t carry diseases.” Not in his body, at least. “You have nothing to worry about.”
She rested her head on his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around her waist. They stared at the stars in silence. He hadn’t stared at them in years, yet they’d patiently waited for him.
“May I ask you something else?” she asked.
“By all means.”
“Is it true your father mistreated his workers?”
He sighed. “At the beginning, Father wasn’t careful with his employees. Yes, he was brutal, which started several arguments between us. It took a while, but he changed his way of dealing with the workers.”
“And you?”
“No. My workers are well paid and enjoy two days off every week, and I pay for their medical bills.”
“Wonderful!” Her surprise pleased him.
“And while we’re talking about my father’s business, no, he didn’t use any tricks to get the infamous deal your father complains about.
He simply made a better offer. Your father believed my father wouldn’t pursue the deal, showing gratitude for the fact he’d helped us in the past. Winchester didn’t take the deal seriously. That’s all.”
She snuggled closer to him. “I believe you.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” He smiled. “How’s your stomach?”
“I’m not going to throw up. My head is less light, too.”
“Good. I’ll have an herbal tea brewed for your head. It works better than any hair of the dog.”
“I’m full of hairs of a dog.”
He released her, smelling her scent on his jacket. “I’ll be right back. Stay here.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Those were the most wonderful words he’d ever heard.