Page 46 of Dubious about the Duke (Second Sons of London 5)

He pulled a cord and then gestured to seat her, taking the place to her right instead of opposite her.

“I take pride on being the best I can be. I know I am intelligent. I view myself as brave and loyal. But I believe it truly is the little things that make a difference in life. If I can lessen the burden of others, so be it.”

Sighing, he raked a hand through his hair, a gesture becoming familiar to her.

“This being a duke has me out of sorts. An army of people waiting on me. It seems wrong in so many ways. At the same time, I know I am responsible for all those people. I want to do right by them.”

“You will,” she told me, longing to place her hand on his but knowing that would trigger a reaction within her that she couldn’t afford. It might also encourage him and that was the last thing she wished to do.

The door opened and the butler entered, followed by a maid pushing a cart. Sera noted the two plates and wondered about that, supposing the butler had anticipated she would eat with Win but not knowing why.

He set the plates before them and removed the covers.

“I hope this will be to your liking, Your Grace. When you didn’t come downstairs, I thought you might wish to dine with Miss Nicholls and discuss the boys’ future.”

“You anticipate my every move and thought, Farmwell.” Win chuckled. “Sometimes, I believe you know me better than I do myself.”

“Wine, Your Grace?”

“Yes, please.”

Farmwell opened the bottle and poured glasses for the both of them, as well as cut pieces of cake. Leaving the bottle, he gestured toward the maid, who rolled the cart from the room. The butler followed, closing the door behind him.

Distress filled Sera. She had supposed there would be footmen present during her meals with Win, just as when she had been at Kingwood with Minta and Percy or her aunt and uncle in London. Instead, she found herself in a very private room, just the two of them. She reached for her wine and sipped on it, worry filling her.

By the end of the meal, however, she was laughing. It became a pleasant hour with no interruptions. No servants bringing course after course. Win told her that he enjoyed food more now than he ever did because of the scarcity of decent food during his time in the army, much of it spent on the move as they chased Bonaparte’s troops.

“I think serving multiple courses, especially when it just me at the meal, is wasteful. I would rather savor what I have in front of me instead of taking a bite here and there of each course and tossing the rest.”

Their single plates had included roasted chicken, two vegetables, and fresh beets, one of her favorites. Farmwell had left the bottle of wine and Win poured her a second glass, though Sera refused a third, already feeling slightly tipsy. The cart had also included a cake and he handed her the piece Farmwell had cut for her.

“Sweets were unheard of on the warfront,” he shared. “To be sitting here with an entire cake is decadent.”

“I have always had a bit of a sweet tooth,” Sera confessed. “Minta can take or leave a sweet but I have troubling passing one up.”

“Would you care for a second slice?”

“No. I already—” She stopped, already embarrassed by her curvaceous figure.

“What is it? Are you already full?”

“Yes, that it is. I couldn’t eat another bite. Besides, the cake can be for tea tomorrow. The boys would like that. Due to their circumstances, I doubt they were spoiled by sweets. At least after their mother became ill and they lost their home.”

As they finished their cake, Win said, “There are books in the schoolroom in the cupboards. I learned to read from them and I suppose my father, before me. Also, there are slates on which I did my sums.”

She smiled. “I can imagine you as a small boy, sitting at that table. You would have been quite bright and full of mischief. Just like Freddie and Charlie.”

He laughed. “I hope I wasn’t quite that mischievous. Though now that I think of it, trouble did have a way of finding me.”

Win told her of a few scrapes he had gotten in during his early years. “Usually, I dragged Percy into them. He was the child of propriety, even as a small boy. I was the bad influence.”

They finished their dessert and wine and Sera yawned. “I’m sorry.”

“You must be tired. It has been a long day. We should take you to your bedchamber.” He frowned. “Or room, I should say.”

“Remember, the boys believe I am a full-fledged governess. You told your butler I was one, as well. Of course, I will sleep where the governess usually does. I believe it must be close to the boys’ room.”

“I haven’t the foggiest notion.”

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