Page 44 of Thomas
“Really?”
“Yes, really. Whenever he came to the house, as soon as he saw me, he’d fling his arms wide open. It would have beenunbearably awkward for both of us if I just stood there like a stubborn lump and refused to embrace him.”
“Ah, so he forced it on you,” Thomas said. He started walking toward the door and Cameron followed.
“Not forced. I hugged him of my own will. I didn’t do it out of ‘responsibility,’ Thomas.”
Thomas smirked, understanding Cameron’s reference. “That may be, but he still put pressure on you to do it.” In the hallway, they walked side by side. As the dining room drew nearer, Thomas lowered his voice. “Did you feel pressured by my illness? Is that why you consented to my feeding from you?”
Cameron stopped dead. “No—no, it wasn’t that way at all.” He lifted a palm to the back of his neck, rubbing. “Yes, I had been thinking about what I could do for you, because it’s obvious that you’re struggling with something. But I’ve also been curious about the experience. I wanted it of my own accord, Thomas. Please don’t think otherwise… or scold me.”
“I did not?—”
“You did.”
Thomas sighed. “I apologize if I spoke strongly. But I wanted to be certain of your intentions. I’m not your ward, Cameron. I hope that someday, we might even be in each other’s care? If you would trust me to do so. In time.”
Cameron watched him, perplexed. Did Thomas want to help him with the accounting and his other administrative responsibilities? The upkeep with the estate and grounds? Thomas was unquestionably intelligent and clever, so Cameron had no doubts about his capabilities.
“Yes,” he said, nodding. “In time.”
In the banquet room, they sat themselves at the table, and within moments, the kitchen staff began serving dinner.
They didn’t speak. Not because the air between them was awkward or Cameron felt strange after the feeding. They weresilent because Thomas proceeded to eat his meal. Cautiously, slowly, but steadily. Cameron tried hard not to stare as the man across from him cleaned his entire plate, the side bowl of tomato soup and the accompanying buttered bread roll.
When he was finished, Thomas sat back and exhaled a weighted, satisfied sigh. “That was exquisite. Would it be alright if I spoke to Sulee, the head chef?”
“Of course,” Cameron said, finishing his last bite of bread roll and wiping his mouth with his napkin. “We could pop into the kitchen after dessert is served.”
Dessert was a classic bread pudding served warm with a drizzle of vanilla sauce. One of Cameron’s favorite wintertime treats. It was sweet—but not overly sugary—buttery, comforting and cozy. Thomas devoured this, too, leaving no trace of it behind in his shallow bowl.
Seeing him contentedly eating his meal made a small pearl of tension inside of Cameron relax. It made the evening just a little homier and more peaceful.
When they both finished and the plates were cleared, they turned down the offer of wine as a night cap and went to the kitchen. Sulee was at the large island chopping vegetables, likely prepping for tomorrow’s meals. Mira was sat on a stool across the island from her with a mug cradled in her hands, smiling and looking comfortable within the space.
The two women paused in their conversation when Cameron and Thomas stepped into the kitchen. Mira perked up, setting her mug on the wooden counter. “Sir Thomas, Lord Ashford! It’s a surprise to see you here. What can I help you with?”
Cameron held up a palm. “Nothing, Mira. Thank you, but Thomas wanted to speak with Chef Sulee.”
Sulee stopped chopping and laid her knife down. Wiped her hands on her apron. “Is everything alright, my lord? Was there a problem with tonight’s dinner?” Sulee had olive-brown skin anda round face. Her dark curly hair was cut close to her head and her eyes were like warm pools of honey.
“Not at all,” Thomas said, stepping closer to the island. “Quite the contrary—everything was delicious and obviously crafted with well-trained hands. Where did you learn such exceptional culinary skills?”
Sulee smiled and stole a sideways glance at Mira. “My father, your grace. He was the head chef here at the Ashford estate until his passing ten years ago. He taught me everything he knew.”
“Sulee grew up here,” Cameron supplied. “She’s been a resident of this estate longer than I have.”
The chef waved a hand. “Only by ten years. And Lord Ashford has been incredible with running things. The estate and the atmosphere here are unrecognizable compared to when I was a child. Thank goodness for that.”
Cameron grinned, his cheeks warming. “I’m glad you think so.”
“Well, I would love to hear more about the history of Ashford House going forward,” Thomas said affably. “And I’m very glad to experience the legacy of your father’s talents—undoubtedly fused with your own, of course.”
Sulee grinned and dipped her head. “Thank you, my lord.”
“I do apologize for my, hm… lackluster appetite up until now. Please take no offense. It bore no reflection on your cuisine.”
“I understand, my lord. I was surprised and pleased to see your plates come back to the kitchen clean tonight. If there’s anything in particular that you enjoy, do not hesitate to let me know.”
