Page 13 of Moonstone Angel
“No, I already know Joan and Ellen made up that story. I could see the lie in their eyes even as it spewed from their lips. You needn’t worry on that score. But it does not mean I ought to trust Cara. She’ll have to earn that from me.”
“Fair enough, my boy.” She took another sip of her sherry and returned her gaze to the sun setting over the distant waters. “Being here is good for my soul. I hope it heals yours, too.”
He rose. “I’ll go in to help her now. I won’t be long.”
He entered the house and took a quick look around the parlor. The room was quaint and well maintained. Walls painted a sunny yellow with crisp, white trim. Damask drapes and chair coverings in pale blue and dotted with yellow flowers. His bedchamber, while not the grandeur and elegance to which he was accustomed, was nonetheless comfortable and equally quaint.
He strode into the kitchen and saw her pouring hot water into a bucket. “Here, let me take over that chore.”
She sighed in obvious relief. “Thank you. I’ll clear off the dining room table meanwhile. Be right back.”
He took a moment to glance around the kitchen, another well-maintained room which had a long table in the middle, a large hearth, sturdy ovens, an array of herbs hung on hooks overhead to sweeten the odor of the room, and copper pots that looked new.
He had just rolled up his sleeves when Cara reappeared carrying a fully laden tray. “I’ll take that,” he said with a frown. “I thought you were only bringing in a few glasses, not the entire supper. I would have helped.”
She shook her head. “You are the oddest duke I have ever met.”
“I’m likely the only duke you have ever met.” He took the tray from her arms and set the load on the table. “It is bigger than you are.”
“My spirit is tall and mighty.” She glanced at his rolled-up sleeves. “I really did not think you meant to wash dishes.”
“I told you I would. I am a man of my word.”
She nodded. “I’ll do the washing. Would you mind drying?”
“I’ll wash. You dry.” He tossed her a drying cloth.
“Truly odd,” she muttered, shaking her head.
“And you are truly clever.” He tossed his head back and laughed. “Not only do you have me washing them, but you have me insisting on doing so. Well done, Cara.”
“You give me far too much credit,” she said, her gaze fixed on his hands as he plunged them into the water and began to scrub the plates with efficiency. “I offered to do the washing, but you are such a contrary fellow, you have to do the opposite of whatever I suggest. So, it is your own fault. Admit it. If I were to say it is day, you would say it is night. If I claim it is warm, you would insist it is cold.”
Curiously, a warm feeling curled in his stomach as he stood beside the impertinent girl, washing and then handing each plate over to her to dry. When else would he ever have been caught in a kitchen, cleaning up while a sharp-tongued girl berated him as they worked side by side?
The debutantes he had considered worthy of his notice had likely never stepped foot belowstairs in their homes. How many of them would have agreed to get their hands dirty to help him out?
He tried not to look at Cara, but it was hard to keep his gaze off her.
She was a beautiful girl.
Was she genuine?
He helped her put away the now clean trays, plates, and silverware, and did the same with the leftover food. They’d finished quickly while working together. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
He nodded. “Let’s rejoin my grandmother.”
He was about to reach for her hand but stopped himself in time. Gad, the gesture had felt so right and natural. But he caught himself before he wrapped his fingers in hers and merely pointed toward the door instead. “After you, Cara.”
That he’d wanted to take her hand horrified him.
Worse, why did he have the sudden urge to take her in his arms?
This is not how he expected to feel about the girl.
The sun was now low on the horizon as they returned to the veranda. “It is beautiful,” she murmured, taking a moment to study the sky before turning to gently remove the now empty glass of sherry from his grandmother’s hand.
Rowan pursed his lips in concern. “She’s fallen asleep.”
