Page 20 of The Moonstone Marquess
She nodded.
“Are you sure?” He gave her cheek a light caress.
“Yes…no… I don’t know.” She shook her head. “Yes, I will be fine.” She took a deep breath and smiled. “There, I’ve fully regained my composure. I don’t want to upset your nieces.”
“Good.” He cast her a rakish grin. “What shall I order for you? Ah, yes. I remember. You are to have a sour grapes ice.”
She returned his grin with an impudent smile of her own. “And you are best described as an obnoxious crab apple. That’s the ice I shall order for you, my lord.”
He laughed. “Mrs. Halsey bakes a cake sinfully rich in chocolate, and she calls it a devil’s cake. I think that devilishly rich chocolate better describes me.”
“I think you have a tremendously overblown sense of your own importance. You are a crab apple and nothing more.”
The bell rang over the shop door as more customers walked in.
Cormac escorted Phoebe to the table his nieces had chosen. Since Mrs. Halsey had no such flavors as sour grapes or crab apple, they settled on a more realistic order of tea and lemon cake, which was always a favorite.
He also ordered a slice of a decadent spice cake covered in melted chocolate that all of them devoured. His nieces, those two adorable angels, wound up with chocolate all over their smiling faces. Phoebe cleaned them off.
Cormac felt a tug to his heart, for the girls looked so happy.
Well, they were John’s girls, and his brother always had the most pleasant disposition. Were he ever to have children of his own, they would be wild and uncontrollable brats, thoroughly arrogant and insufferable.
Although if Phoebe was their mother, they might turn out all right. She had more sense than he had, and a lovely, calm way about her.
Imogen fell asleep on his lap on the ride back to Moonstone Cottage. Ella was also drifting off by the time they arrived. Chloe had already returned from her church function, and she and Mrs. Hawke carried the girls upstairs for their naps.
Cormac now had a moment alone with Phoebe.
She smiled up at him. “I had a nice time today.”
He nodded. “So did I.”
She nibbled her luscious lower lip. “Then you are all right with your nieces having a ghostly encounter?”
“No, but there is little I can do about it. They do not seem troubled by it.”
“They won’t be. Hen and I weren’t when it happened to us. Children are a lot more accepting of things out of the ordinary.”
“I suppose.”
“They are innocent and have not yet learned to close themselves off or be wary. This is the sad part of growing up, I think. Learning not to trust, to always doubt. We lose so much of the magic life has to offer when we close ourselves off.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Are you lecturing me?”
“No, I am merely making a general observation about what we lose when growing up. This applies to all of us, even me. I hate to think I have grown so cynical.”
“You?” He laughed softly. “No, you still have that magic about you.”
She shook her head “Hardly. But I think you might have gained a little of it back today. You were wonderful with the girls. I did not think you would last that long without turning surly.”
“Is this all you think of me?”
“Well, I don’t know you really. Considering the goings-on at your manor, I was sure the outing was going to be too tame for you and you would quickly grow bored.”
“No, I am never bored with those little girls. I wasn’t bored around you either.”
She rolled her eyes. “Be still my heart. Another compliment from you. I did not bore you to tears. Please, you are making me blush with your flattery.”
