Page 22 of Taming the Scot
Bronwen’s mouth watered at the lavish display. But even though her body demanded that she gorge, her brain remembered all too well what had happened yesterday when she did. She wasn’t used to eating so much and had to remember to take it slow. “They all look delicious. Your cook has outdone herself. Please extend my thanks for all her efforts.”
“Indeed.” Euan leaned a hip against the sideboard, his arms crossed as he watched her with curious eyes. “But I must know which is the usual way. I was up nearly all night wracking my brain to figure it out.” This, she could tell, was a tease.
Bronwen plucked up a hard-boiled egg, rolling the firm, warm egg in her palm. “I am used to these. Boiled hard or soft.”
He grinned down at her. “Ah-ha, now it is I who gets to teach ye a lesson. Perhaps today ye ought to try the others.”
He had a point. There was likely never going to be another time in which she had so many eggs to choose from—she was looking at scarcity being a thing of fact again soon. So, she might as well live it up while she was here.
Bronwen decided to take a small bit of each and prayed the rich food didn’t have the same effect on her this morning as it had last night. She’d been so embarrassed when Euan found her in the gazebo. The place had seemed private, the perfect spot to hide from anyone who might decide to go for an after-dinner stroll. But alas, he found her almost immediately after walking right past her mess. She’d almost cried when he approached, so mortified was she.
Fortunately, he’d not seemed the wiser to it and instead acted so incredibly nice she’d almost burst into tears all over again. Saints, but her emotions felt as if they were all over the place these days.
But his genuine kindness, gentleness…she was so grateful for it. No one had ever offered her a piece of clothing off their body when she needed to wipe away tears and everything else. And he’d done so without a second thought.
They settled at the table, and she took note that he had taken his childhood favorite, eggs in a hole along with bacon, beans and mushrooms. His plate was so incredibly full that she had doubts as to whether he’d finish it. But even as she taste-tested each little thing, he not only ate his plate but a second helping and then wiped up the remnants with a piece of toast. As a man who ate so much, she wouldn’t have expected him to look the way he did. Euan was fit, strong, broad. She supposed it took a lot of food to keep up such a physique.
Bronwen wasn’t so certain she liked the scrambled eggs. They were buttery and salty, but the texture was off for her. The fried egg tasted a lot like the egg in the hole, except with the egg in the hole, she at least got a bit of toast. The omelet also had a strange rubbery texture to it that she wasn’t fond of. But the one in the pie crust…she scooped up the last crumbs and savored it, her belly full but not painfully so.
“Which did ye like the best?” Euan asked as he wiped his mouth and sat back in his chair to watch her.
When had she started thinking of him as Euan instead of the captain? It was entirely too personal, and yet she kind of liked it, which was dangerous. She shouldn’t like it, or him, at all, and yet he consumed her thoughts with his charming ways.
Bronwen set down her fork, staring at the remains left on her plate. “I think the kash.”
“The quiche.” Euan grinned.
Bronwen chuckled. “Aye, that. It was the most exciting of the bunch, I think. But your egg in a hole came in at a close second.”
“How is it that a governess such as yourself has no’ had anything but hard or soft-boiled eggs?” He sipped at a cup of coffee and watched her over the rim.
Bronwen felt her skin start to prickle. She’d not known there were so many types of eggs. Yet another mistake in a long line of them. She picked up her coffee, slowly sipping as she thought of a response.
“I suppose it is because my parents were verra boring and only served one kind. And whenever I’ve been employed, I’ve not been offered such a display as that.” She pointed to the sideboard. This was true. Though she’d never been a governess, most of her employers didn’t offer her a meal at all.
“Huh.” He nodded, accepting the answer. “I guess that is the same as me discovering other types of whisky than the one my father always served me. The man only ever offered one kind.”
Bronwen couldn’t help a soft laugh. She had an idea of where this was going, and it was a fun little glimpse into more of Euan’s family life. “Let me guess. It was no’ the best.”
Euan laughed. “Aye. He saved that for himself.”
Their plates were cleared, and they were left to sip their coffee—another drink she’d never had before, and she wasn’t certain she liked it. There was a bitter aftertaste to it, even with copious amounts of sugar and cream.
“What lessons have ye got planned for me today?” he asked, a little mischievous glint in his eyes.
Bronwen kept the groan bubbling in her throat at bay. The last thing she wanted to do was have another round of lessons. But she managed to plaster on a smile. “Today, I thought we’d discuss correspondence, conversation and manners—as we’ve discovered ye seem to be lacking some in certain areas.”
His grin widened, and he tapped his hands on the table. “Excellent. I have several letters I need to pen this morning. Shall we start in my study?”
Well, this was going better than she’d planned. If he already had letters to pen, then he would know what to write. But she also needed to maintain her position as governess—and feign authority. “That would be fine, Captain, but I’ve no’ interest in the letters ye’re penning.”
He wiggled his brows. “What if they are to a lady?”
Bronwen pursed her lips. “Then we ought to be discussing that.”
Euan rose from his chair, and she followed suit, the chair pushing against the backs of her knees and the hem of her frock catching beneath one slipper. She righted herself, hoping he’d not noticed.
“Wait, Miss Holmes.”
