Page 16 of Married By Twelfth Night
“A simple serving of tea and scones was not good enough for you?” He teased the women warming themselves in front of Belside’s oversized fireplace.
“The ordinary will never suffice for us,” Bridget said. “Besides, there is nothing better than Aunt Edith’s shortbread recipe. It should be famous.”
“I agree, and who would want tea when they can have chocolate?” Grace shook her head like he was mad.
He was about to say himself, but he hadn’t had melted chocolate in some time and could drink it without complaining. Relaxing back in a cushioned elbow chair, he took a sip. The dark liquid warmed his throat and middle. It was less bitter than the last time he had had it. In fact, he rather enjoyed it.
Bridget must have been watching him. “Grace requested it served with extra sugar and cream. What do you think?”
He took another sip. “Is that cinnamon?”
Grace nodded. “And just a hint of vanilla. Your cook has perfected our family recipe.” She took a sip, tipped back her head, and sighed. “They had better have this in heaven.”
Her over-the-top response was amusing. “I admit it’s the best melted chocolate I’ve ever had.”
A maid came in with a stack of quilts Bridget had asked for. He set his cup down and hurried to take the load. He passed one to Ruth, who avoided his gaze. Next was Bridget, who forgot to thank him. And Grace—when she accepted hers—met his gaze, thanked him, and almost smiled.
He thought about their reactions all the way back to his seat where he picked up his plate. He bit into his toast and chewed on his thoughts. After two different days of skating for a few hours each with the Steele family, Richard wasn’t any closer to knowing Ruth better. Mr. and Mrs. Steele had to have had their suspicions about his intentions, but so far Grace had made it difficult for him to show any real partiality toward her. A few times around the pond on his arm, and then she was glued to Bridget’s side. Perhaps he shouldn’t have balked at inheriting a horse farm like his cousin Alden after all. He was officially failing at courting two different women. He had thought himself charming enough, but he could not even manage a fake courtship. At least Ruth had stayed for refreshment. That had to count for something.
And Grace? She was a complex puzzle with different sides she did not always show to people. But she had encouraged him to put in a little effort, and he wasn’t going to shirk a challenge. There was no better place to start than in the privacy of his own home. That way if he bumbled anything, the rest of society need not witness it.
“How about a game?” he asked, prodding Grace’s attention with the suggestion.
It was his sister who answered for her. “Oh, yes,” Bridget said, her cheeks blooming into a smile. “What do you have in mind?”
“I was thinking of a word game.”
“Tiles?” Tobias asked.
“The very one. I believe we have a set in the box on the mantel.” He moved to retrieve it.
“I think I will walk home,” Ruth announced suddenly.
Grace’s gaze darted from her sister to Richard and back again. “But you adore word games.”
He lifted the box with one hand and turned toward Ruth. “I am most reluctant to have you walk in this cold. Let me prepare my carriage for you. I must insist.”
“Very well.” Ruth settled back in her seat.
He swallowed. “While we wait, perhaps you can join us for one round of tiles?”
Her eyes darted to the door and back to him. “I suppose.”
He handed the game to Tobias to prepare on the tea table while he sent a footman to the stables. When he returned, the faint smell of chocolate still lingered in the air. The others were gathered around the table, Grace and Bridget sitting on the carmine Turkish rug with their blankets on their laps, Ruth perched on the edge of the sofa, and Tobias on his knees. No other group would be able to relax so fully together. But it was more than that. His family was not so comfortable together since Father died. This felt like a glimpse from better days.
“What letter game did we decide on?” He pulled his chair up and positioned himself next to Grace. She eyed him warily, but he only smiled at her and rummaged through the off-white tiles. “Anagrams?”
“Please, no,” Tobias whined. “It is impossible to beat my sisters. Play scramble. If you cannot decipher your word in sixty seconds,you’re out.”
“Very well.” Pulling a few toward him, he selected the letters he needed. While still jumbled, he pushed them toward Tobias.
They all began counting the seconds out loud, but he sorted it with ease. “Done. Skating.”
“He always goes easy on the first round,” Bridget explained. “Don’t get too comfortable.”
He glanced up at her. She remembered? They hadn’t played this since . . . since before Father. A wave of guilt coursed through him. Should he have spent more time with her? It hadn’t been easy seeing to the estate and managing Mother’s emotions. He reassured himself once more that she had Grace. She didn’t need his attention too.
Grace selected the next set of tiles. Bridget studied the letters, tapping her chin with her finger while their counting neared sixty seconds. “Oh! Perfume.”
