“I came only because I wanted to,” he reminded her, unable to believe her cheek that she would persist in this deal even with the brooch back in her possession.
Lady Barrington sat back in surprise, shooting a look at her chaperone who seemed for all the world to have dozed off over her embroidery. “You do not have to maintain that fiction. Bridget knows the full details of our arrangement.”
“Bridget appears to have fallen asleep,” he said, and nearly laughed when she rolled her eyes. “I think you are more of a handful than you let on.”
She gasped but was smiling all the same. He was right; it was a beautiful smile. “Though I hardly think it is proper for you to bring it up in just that way, Your Grace.”
“I hardly think you know what’s proper or not. Now here, don’t look at me like that. Look, the refreshments have arrived. For your next lesson in the art of making calls, it is your duty to serve your guests. Namely me.” James nodded toward the loaded tea cart that trundled toward them, with at least two servants guiding it to keep from spilling the tea.
Lady Barrington stared at him. Her face had gone pale, making the scratched portions of her face stand out in stark relief. For the first time, James saw how truly damaged she was, and he caught his breath.
“Do you wish me to serve? To handle the refreshments?” she asked, as the servants bowed and retreated.
“Would you rather that…what did you call her, Bridget? Would you rather Bridget served then?” James asked, frowning a little, for she seemed somewhat…panicked.
Lady Barrington sat, staring at the cart as though it were a dread monster. Steam rose from the teapot in the center. “I do not know. It seems a shame to wake her. She works so terribly hard.”
“Then come, let us figure this out together.” James rose and offered her his hand for a second time since coming into the room. This time her fingers curled around his a little more readily though she still seemed unsure as they approached the cart. “It seems you ordered enough food to feed half the town.”
“I…I was unsure what you would like,” she murmured, staring with a certain amount of consternation at the plates of cakes and nuts and other treats. “I might have ordered too much…”
“Nonsense, I am famished. It is a good thing you have. Here, why don’t you start with assembling two plates while I pour the tea?”
Her head came up, eyes meeting his with a scandalized gasp. “Truly you do not mean…”
“I fail to see how difficult it would be. Tell me how you take yours and I will pour. Shh…do not gasp so, your Bridget will awaken and give you no end of scolding for such scandalous behavior. We cannot have that.”
“Oh…but what if I…” She stared at the cakes uncertainly. “What if I make you sick?” she asked all in a rush.
“Sick how? You seem healthy enough.”
Her hand rose to her cheek and he saw then how fearful she was of her own self. He caught the hand and drew it away, bending to look intently in her eyes. “Shh…do not make it worse. I know you long to scratch at it, but you were doing so well. Let us busy those hands. There is nothing I fear in whatever skin condition you carry. It does not seem serious.”
“Does not seem serious!” she exclaimed, pulling her hand from his and almost frantically grabbing at the silver cake server that she might position a small cake upon each of their plates.
“I have seen things. My father thought it wise for me to travel, thinking it would someday aid me in the management of his affairs when he was gone.” James snorted at that. “Much good as it did him. Were it not for the disaster of my own making, we would not be having this conversation would we. Tell me how you like your tea.”
“Plain, with just a hint of sweetening.”
He lifted the teapot and poured, finding it a little trickier than he’d expected, as the teapot was heavy and ornate, with the tea escaping in an almost unexpected direction there was so much decoration on the spout.
“So, did you?” she pressed, as she placed a collection of small fruits upon the plate, bright grapes that brought a dark and purple to contrast with pale biscuits she’d stacked in plenty. She added in several sandwiches and stood back to look at the effect.
“Traveled? Yes. Considerably. Though not in so romantic a way as your father. I understand he worked aboard ship. I went as the honored guest. Or at least as the passenger who paid generously for his position aboard.” James motioned toward the settee, inviting her to again be seated.
There came a moment of juggling items and passing plates back and forth, but they ended amicably enough seated side by side. He passed her the tea he poured. She almost dropped the plate of food on his lap, so heavy had she piled it.
“You said you were hungry,” she reminded him, when he stared somewhat aghast, but with a certain fascination at the stacks of food she presented him with.
“I daresay you emptied out half the cart onto here. It might have been easier to just roll the trolley over and hand me a fork,” he said and laughed when she looked for all the world like she would cry. “Shh…it’s fine. I am hungry. Ravenous in fact. I can’t remember when I ate so well.” And to prove that he was in earnest, he took a large bite from the first sandwich.
It was perhaps not the most proper of dining etiquette, but it served to make her laugh again, which in turn brought out that fine smile. He was coming to live for those smiles and thought how if there had not been the matter of Lucy and the brooch between them, that he might very well come to enjoy courting this girl.
“So, what happened? When you traveled?” she asked around a mouthful of sandwich and then ducked her head, that she might hide behind her napkin when she realized what she had done.
He politely ignored the indiscretion. “I saw the world. I have been to the islands and back. And to several of the colonies. I was gone for more than a year and came back a changed man. I loved seeing the world, and would have gone to explore more of it, but father was sick by then. I knew it was time to take up the mantle of responsibility and stay at home.”
“And you said you saw….” She waved at the raw patches of skin upon her face and neck. “…such as me?”