Page 43 of Caught With the Scarred Duke
Cyrus shook his head as if emerging from a trance, his gaze falling on her. “Of course.”
“Am I such terrible company?”
He blinked. “Pardon?”
“Well, it often seems like you would rather be anywhere else,” she replied,And I am tired of being invisible.
A look of genuine confusion clouded his expression, his throat bobbing as he took a sip of his tea. “I am having a lovely time.”
“You are?” Her frown deepened, unable to decide if he was being serious or not.
He nodded. “It is rare that I am not buried under a pile of correspondence and ledgers and contracts, rarer still that I am not alone in that endeavor.” He took another sip. “You said it did not do a person any good to be isolated, and I was enjoying sharing the quiet with company. Is this not what you meant?”
To her surprise, and partial delight, a laugh bubbled up the back of her throat and spilled out through the Tea House. For the past twenty minutes, she had thought he was deliberately ignoring her, trying to make the occasion as awkward as possible so she would not request it again. All the while, actually reveling in every moment.
He quirked an eyebrow. “Did I say something funny?”
“Not directly,” she replied, softening. “It was not what I meant, in truth, but… now that I think about it, itisrather nice to share silence with someone. I just did not realize that was what we were doing.”
“I see.” He took up a piece of strawberry cake, though he did not bite into it. “Whatwereyou expecting?”
She shrugged. “I have no expectations, as you have dictated.”
“Was that a jest?” he said, the ghost of a smile on his lips.
“Perhaps.” She chuckled, taking a piece of the luxurious, buttery strawberry cake for herself. “Butsomeconversation might be nice. We could talk about the weather, about the extortionateprice of horses, about the morning papers. Just a few things to consider.”
He raised his piece of cake as if in a toast. “Tell me, Teresa, do you think it will rain?”
She ‘clinked’ her cake against his, grinning at the bewildered crease of his eyes. “I think, if it does, it will be very good for the flowers.”
And it might keep us in this Tea House a while longer…
It was not a great stride toward a closer relationship, but itwasa tiny tiptoe and, as far as she was concerned, either would get her to where she wanted to be. It just required patience and perseverance, which, fortunately, she had in abundance.
Just then, as if summoned, the first few droplets began to fall from the gray skies, tapping against the glass like a nudge and a wink.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Teresa breezed through the library doors, clasping the latest post to her chest: a hefty delivery, closed with three wax seals to ensure it did not spring open. Her latest chapter of Captain Frostheart and Miss Savage, now sent directly to Darnley Castle, thanks to a brief letter to the author explaining her change of address—rather, to the author’s intermediary, who went by the simple title of Mademoiselle X.
Once, Teresa had gone to visit the address, but it was nothing but a carpenter’s workshop.
Will the whale sink the ship? Will my beloved couple be doomed to a watery grave?She could not wait to find out, for the previous chapter had ended on something of a perilous moment. Miss Savagehadmade it onto the ship in time, but they had hit a terrible storm, and a vengeful whale had mistaken their ship for that of whalers, battering the hull with all its might.
It had ended with the cabins filling with water, and Miss Savage trapped below, having gone down to tend to a sickly crewmate; the Captain striving to break down the door to save her in time.
She came to a quiet halt, glancing down the avenue of bookcases to find an odd sight. Indeed, she had to blink a few more times to make sure she was not imagining things.
Cyrus sat in one of the reading chairs she had painstakingly cleaned and mended, so engrossed in the book in his hands that he had not noticed her arrival in the library. She squinted, trying to make out the name of the book, to no avail.
Why is he not in his study?
She cast off the thought, pleased that he wasnotin his study. It had been two days since her sisters and best friend left Darnley Castle and, in that time, Cyrus had made a sustained effort to spend more time in Teresa’s company. They had tea every afternoon, their silences becoming less of a discomfort and more of a moment for quiet reflection. And they dined together every night, telling one another about their days.
More tiptoes toward a pleasant companionship at the very least, the candle of hope in Teresa’s chest kept to a restrained flame. She did not want to hope too much and end up crushed, learning how to manage her expectations.
“Is it so very captivating?” she asked, hiding a smile.
