Page 72 of A Marquess' Season of Secrets
“I will make it the best he has ever had,” Juliana promised with full confidence. “I have seen it done many times before.”
“Well, I suppose I could use the extra hands,” the woman said uncertainly.
“I shall not disappoint you!” Juliana exclaimed happily.
She immediately went into the pantry to get a tablet and grated a good amount into a large pan of milk. Setting it on the heat, Juliana kept stirring it to prevent the bottom from scorching. It came to a boil quicker than she expected, but she did not allow it to boil over, or Cook would have banned her from making the hot drink.
A bit of time was spent using the chocolate mill before adding a little cornstarch to thicken the consistency and going back to the mill to incorporate the cornstarch into the hot chocolate.
Fat beads of sweat trickled down Juliana’s brow as she returned the drink to the stove and brought it to the boil, added a generous amount of cream to make it a tad more luxurious.
I hope the duke enjoys this, or I might cry from all the effort put into it!
After using the chocolate mill for the last time, Juliana transferred the frothy hot chocolate to a chocolate pot and added it to a tray with the appropriate cup. A plate of plain butter biscuits joined the beverage before Juliana made her way to the library, beaming the whole way with pride.
She couldn’t decide if the knowledge that she was about to read to the duke or the fact that she had made him her very first hot chocolate was making her feel as though she had eaten an enormous ray of sunshine, but she was g
lad either way. It didn’t occur to her to question her feelings until she arrived outside the door and paused. The other servants likely did not feel this much joy at making their first hot chocolate, and Juliana doubted anyone would take such pleasure in reading to someone.
The reading and the hot chocolate were not for her, and yet she felt as though she was the one being showered with goodness. It was strange indeed.
The door opened as she was poised to knock, revealing the duke. “I heard soft footsteps, but they suddenly stopped outside the door,” he explained.
“I was about to knock, Your Grace.”
“The tray seems heavy for you,” he said, taking it from her. “I’ll carry it in.”
Juliana could have told him the breakfast tray was much heavier, but it seemed unnecessary at that moment.
“I have chosen the book I wish you to read to me. It’s an old childhood favourite— I’m feeling a tad nostalgic these days. I’ve placed it on the seat where I would like you to sit.”
The duke placed the tray on a side table and settled on a white settee. It took but a moment more to realise that her chair was next to his. She was so close that she could stretch out her hand and touch him!
“Perhaps another seat would be better, Your Grace,” she politely protested.
“I would prefer it if you were closer so I would not have to strain my ears to hear you.”
Juliana capitulated and nodded, taking the book before sitting down. Her hand trailed over the front cover of the book, briefly recalling a wintery eve where she had sat before a fireplace with the very same book in her hand and a cup of hot chocolate in the other. The memory was so vivid that Juliana could almost feel the warmth of the gentle fire burning behind its grate.
“Is something the matter?” the duke asked.
“No, Your Grace. Just another memory.”
“What was this one about?”
“Sitting by the fireplace and reading Robinson Crusoe. I think I enjoyed it immensely.”
“I suppose that gives us something in common,” he said with a smile. “You may begin whenever you feel ready.”
Juliana opened the book, tracing a familiar signature. “You had this book signed by Mr Defoe! How?”
“My grandfather was good friends with Mr Defoe, and this was gifted to him. It’s the first edition. Many people assumed Daniel Defoe had experienced all the adventures because he stated the book was written by the protagonist, which my grandfather thought was rather amusing.”
“What a wonderful story, Your Grace. How glorious it must be to meet the authors behind such grand imaginations! ’Tis almost as glorious as going on the very same adventures detailed in the book.”
The duke frowned slightly. “I do not know about that, but I would like you to start reading. My headache has not left me since the previous night.”
“I shall bring you a warm drink of honey and milk this evening to calm your mind, Your Grace,” she promised.
