Chapter Thirty-Two
“I’d hoped the weather would be more cooperative,” Duke said as he guided the hooded gig Eve was riding in with him carefully around a bend in the muddy road. “At least the rain’s not pouring down any longer.”
Eve wasn’t uncomfortable nor overly bothered by the weather. She was, though, extremely curious. “The weather isn’t ideal for a leisurely jaunt, which leads me to suspect you’ve a destination in mind.”
He kept his expression a little too neutral. “Perhaps.”
“And you’re not meaning to tell me where?”
He shook his head. “I’ve exerted far too much effort since yesterday afternoon arranging this without your discovering the secret. I won’t be tricked into spilling it now.”
It was, perhaps, a bit of a bending of propriety, the two of them alone in a gig. But truly only a bit. Such a thing was not unheard of at a country house party. And no one at this country house party would lob accusations or start whispers. Almost no one.
“Do your parents know about this secretive outing?” She hadn’t missed the disapproval in their eyes when they’d looked her over the day before in the library.
“Definitely not.”
As quickly as she’d grown nervous, she felt relieved. “Is there a reason you planned a mysterious outing?”
“I realized, talking with you in the library yesterday, that you’ve spent far too much of this house party unable to claim even a moment’s calm. I think you deserve to spend a little time enjoying yourself.”
“We’re aiming for another abandoned inn, aren’t we?” She laughed.
“Better even than that,” he said. “The washed-out bridge.”
He pulled the gig to the side of a quaint cottage and beneath an overhang attached to the side of it, precisely the right size for the gig and the horse. They weren’t more than a five-minute drive from the house, yet Eve hadn’t seen this building before.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“When buyers come to Fairfield to undertake business, they generally bring quite a few of their own stablehands, horse handlers, and drivers. My aunt came to the realization ages ago that providing the visiting stable staff their own accommodations separate from the extensive staff at Fairfield was far less disruptive. This is where they stay so they can make their way to the stables when asked to do so by their employer.”
That was rather ingenious. And as there were no buyers at Fairfield at the moment, the cottage would not be in use. But puffs of smoke emerged from the chimney. Someone was there.
Duke handed her down. A walkway of flagstones had been laid, beginning on either side of where the gig sat and extending all the way to the door of the cottage. It meant they could make the short walk without being up to their ankles in mud.
They’d not gone a single step when the door opened, and Artemis and Ellie waved to Eve.
“I’d not thought I could be more intrigued than I was,” Eve said.
“They helped me arrange all this.”
She looked up at him as they approached the door. “All what ?”
“You’ll see.”
No matter that she was still a little uncertain of him, her heart flipped around at the sight of his smile.
Duke led her past their greeters and into the cozy, well-appointed cottage. The visiting staff who stayed there must be deeply pleased with their accommodations. To one side of the door was a sitting area, clearly comfortable furnishings gathered pleasingly around a low-burning fire.
Eve looked in the other direction toward a small kitchen area with a fire already lit in the fireplace. Several crates sat on the worktable. Duke motioned her in that direction.
She crossed to the worktable and peeked inside the crates. Goodness. There was flour, sugar, eggs, and butter. She found baking tools alongside jars of spices and dried fruits. A great many unexpected cooking treasures.
“You told me that the Huntresses knew of your interest in baking, so I enlisted their help,” Duke said.
Eve looked from Duke to Artemis and Ellie and back. “This is for me?”
“For the remainder of the house party,” Duke said.
“Where did you get all this?” She had all she would need to bake any number of dishes.
“I stole it.”
Eve spun about, surprised by Duke’s declaration. But there was amusement in his eyes.
“We made a request of the Fairfield kitchen,” Artemis said. “And the request was approved by Mrs. Greenberry, done so without anyone knowing why or for whom we were requesting it.”
“I can truly use any of this?” Heaven help her, she was growing excited.
“Every last bit,” Duke said.
Eve began pulling items from the crates. “What ought I to bake first, do you think? There are so many possibilities.”
“Whatever you wish,” Duke said. “And whatever you don’t choose today, you can bake tomorrow or the next day, whenever you choose to come back.”
“We have demanded to be recompensed for our time and efforts with something delicious,” Artemis said as she and Ellie took seats beside the other fireplace.
“Ah, something delicious.” Eve nodded very solemnly. “I had intended to go in the opposite direction.”
Duke hung his greatcoat on a peg near the door, then hung his hat atop it. He laid his gloves on the narrow table nearest those pegs. Eve was so excited by the prospect of baking that she’d not even remembered until he’d pulled off his outercoat that she was still dressed for the out of doors. She unbuttoned her wool pelisse, and he helped her slip it off. While she untied her bonnet, Duke hung up her coat. Her bonnet joined it, then her gloves took their place beside his.
She couldn’t help a little bounce in her step as she returned to the worktable. “There are so many possibilities.” She took up the task of emptying the crates once more. “What is your favorite baked treat, Duke?”
“Nothing particularly impressive.”
She looked over at him. “Things don’t have to be impressive to be enjoyed.”
“I have never been able to resist shortbread biscuits.”
Eve assessed her ingredients. “I have everything to make shortbread. Oh, there’s even dried lemon zest. Perhaps I could make Shrewsbury biscuits.”
He moved to stand by her. “I’m not familiar with those.”
“A shortbread biscuit, but with lemon, caraway seeds, rose water, and sometimes dried fruit.”
Duke nodded toward the assorted items. “You have lemon and dried currants.”
“I suspect I could adjust the usual approach to make something delicious even with some of the ingredients missing.” This was exciting. “I should make some bread as well. Then, when I return, it’ll be a bit stale, and I could make bread pudding. That is Artemis’s favorite.”
“An excellent plan, Eve.” He pulled off his frock coat and draped it over a chair. “What can I do to help?” He pushed back the sleeves of his shirt. “Bearing in mind, of course, that I have never baked anything in my entire life.”
“You even thought to obtain aprons.” She pulled them out of one of the crates. “We’ll not return with telltale flour on our clothes.”
“We should ask Artemis if telltale flour is destined to be all the rage in London fashion next year.”
They turned in unison to look at her across the way.
“No.” She managed to look entirely haughty while somehow still conveying that she was laughing along with them.
Eve set to work making the Shrewsbury biscuits. Duke did whatever she asked him to do. And while they worked, they talked.
“This feels like being back at the inn,” she said.
He was concentrating very hard on his task of working butter into the flour mixture. “I don’t know how much help I was to you in that kitchen. Or this one , for that matter.”
“Oh, you are decidedly useless in the kitchen.”
Duke smiled. How she loved that smile.
Eve chopped the dried currants. “I would love to bake every day. I could create my own recipes and discover which herbs make the most delicious bread. And I would love to learn how the French make such uniformly layered pastries. There’s some trick to it that I haven’t yet sorted.”
“Never you fear, Eve. I happen to be an expert at pastry.” He preened for the length of a breath, then, as if confused, asked, “We are talking about eating pastries, aren’t we?”
She burst out laughing. “You are no help at all, Dubhán Seymour.”
Eve happened to glance across the room in that moment. Artemis and Ellie were watching them with curiosity.
“You will adore Shrewsbury biscuits,” Eve assured them.
“And what about Duke?” Ellie asked.
“He said he likes shortbread.”
With a not-quite-hidden smirk, Artemis said, “Oh, we were talking about the biscuits, were we?”
There was no mistaking what Artemis was implying. They thought Duke “adored” Eve, or at least liked her in a way beyond friendship. A quick glance at Duke revealed that he hadn’t missed the comment. And though he didn’t look confused or embarrassed, he did look uncomfortable.
He had only just begun showing his playful side again, teasing her and smiling with her. There was more warmth between them again. She didn’t know that they would return to the tenderness of their time at the inn or the first day or so of this house party, but she didn’t want to lose what she had only just regained.
She pointed at them with her knife. “Watch yourselves there, you two. You’ll be noticing I’m accidentally armed.”
Artemis smiled broadly. “All the Huntresses know what it means when Eve’s voice grows excessively Irish.”
Ellie laughed. “It means we’re in trouble.”
From beside her, Duke said so quietly that he might not have even realized he’d vocalized the thought, “I like the Irish in her voice.”
Eve continued her chopping, pretending she hadn’t heard, not wanting to embarrass him and not wanting him to pull away again.
“Does this look as it ought?” Duke turned the bowl he held toward her to reveal the contents. He’d incorporated the butter enough to make a very crumbly dough.
“It’s perfect.”
Bless him, his expression immediately filled with pride. “I would have been satisfied with, ‘You didn’t ruin it.’ How fortunate to discover, instead, that I am a baking prodigy.”
“But terribly un fortunate for your uncle.”
“How so?”
She shrugged. “His newly hired political secretary is likely to abandon him and join a troupe of traveling bakers instead.”
“Are there troupes of traveling bakers?”
“There should be.” She scooped up a handful of the now-chopped currants and dropped them in the bowl. “And the moment one is formed, I assume joining said troupe will be the fulfillment of your elusive dreamed-of future.”
“No,” he said with another smile. He nodded to the currants now in the bowl. “Do I stir those in?”
Eve nodded as she scooped up the rest. As she dropped them into the bowl, her hand brushed against his. So briefly. So lightly. But a surge of warmth rushed from her fingers, along her arm, and directly to her heart.
She kept her gaze on the bowl. If she looked up and didn’t see any reaction at all to the unintentional and fleeting touch, it would probably break her heart. She was letting herself begin hoping for things, which she realized was an enormous risk so soon after having her hopes dashed. By him.
“Were you able to finish the letter for your parents?” he asked as he stirred the thick dough.
“Yes. I finished it last night. It is such a relief to know that they will be aware of Nia’s illness.” She moved the pan she’d chosen for the shortbread over to where they stood. “The O’Doyles excel at supporting each other, even if we have to do so at a distance.”
“I’ve seen that between you and Nia. I sometimes wonder, if I’d had a brother or sister, if we would have had a connection like the two of you do.” His wistfulness brought her gaze to him once more. The laughter in his eyes was gone, and she missed it immediately. “But my parents would likely have tormented this hypothetical additional child the same way they have me, which would have made the last decades even worse.”
“Although, this imaginary sibling of Duke could be nicknamed Earl or Viscount, which would be enormously entertaining,” Eve said.
His smile bloomed immediately. “I should tell my parents that I’ve decided to abandon Duke, as they’ve so long insisted I should, and will henceforth be called Marquess. They will be so pleased.”
“Better yet, tell them you will now answer only to Scuff.”
He laughed, his eyes dancing with genuine delight and a tender vulnerability that she felt certain few people were permitted to see. She had been among those privileged few during their journey from Ireland. That she was once more filled her heart with hope.