He lifted it from the tray with reverence.Some opined that the greatest magic of the local area was year-round Christmastide nestled high in a winter wonderland.
For Nicholas, the magic had begun when he and his brother walked into the castle’s receiving area and were immediately greeted by an enormous buffet featuring spiced wine and tall platters of fresh biscuits.
With a crooked grin, he lifted his now-empty saucer.“These are delectable.I am happy to test as many recipes as you please.”
She plucked the dish from his hand.“I’m done baking.I am far too busy to waste time on more than one new recipe a week.”
A new recipe every week?Nicholas’s breath caught.He was beginning to regret limiting his holiday to a single fortnight.
“Much too busy doing what?”he asked.With her, it could be anything.
“Experiments.”She made a gesture toward the corridor.“In my laboratory.”
At least he had guessed something right.He had begun to think he would never know what to expect with her.
Debutantes fit a certain pattern, courtesans another, the widows and fallen women who sought to spend their nights in the arms of a lover were yet another.
Miss Mitchell was different.If spinsters and bluestockings were supposed to be dull, she had broken that mold.She knew her own mind.She didn’t need Nicholas or anyone.He doubted she even allowed Mother Nature to get in her way.
“Have you considered my proposal?”he asked anyway.
“Yes.”She gave a brisk nod.“The answer is no.”
“Any price,” he reminded her with his most gallant smile.“Just name it.”
She gave him a consoling look.“I don’t need your money.I have my own.”
“I could give you more.”He no longer knew why he was so desperate for her to say yes.Was it to finally put paid to the ridiculous rakelings crawling out of the woodwork?Or was it so he would have an excuse to come back and see her?“What would it take for you to stop producingDuke?”
Her brow furrowed in thought as she considered the question carefully.“The apocalypse?”
A soft snort of laughter escaped before he could stifle it.He supposed he’d expected as much, but it had been worth the shot.“So definitely no?”
“Definitely no,” she said firmly and motioned her free hand toward the door.
The startled laugh that escaped his throat this time held no humor at all.
He had never been dismissed from a woman’s home before.The sensation was unnerving.He might not be a member of Parliament or a great inventor, but all the other ladies of his acquaintance had managed to put him to good use.
Nicholas frowned to realize that was not precisely what he wanted from Miss Mitchell.What on earth was happening?His throat tightened as he turned toward the door.
Perhaps her disinterest in making a good impression was what made Nicholas want to make a good impression onher.Or perhaps it was her surprising acceptance of a simple stone as a gift that made him wish he had more to offer.
What would it be like to have someone want to spend time withhim, not just his body?To be able to be the person he truly was, not the person everyone expected to see?
A nightmare, he reminded himself firmly.He had built his walls for a reason.They kept him safe.Miss Mitchell was dangerous.
She followed him to the door and leaned one slim shoulder against the frame as he made his way out into the fading light.“If I ever catch you hanging about my doorstep again…”
He paused and glanced over his shoulder, eyebrows raised.
She grinned at him.“There may be biscuits.”
The door shut tight before he could respond.Not that he was capable.He was smiling too widely to think of anything brilliant to say.To his surprise, the villagers had been right.
Coming here really did feel like Christmas.
Chapter 6
