He hovered beside her, pretending to busy himself with straightening her cutlery; meanwhile, he waited for the others to leave. As the door was closed behind them, he lifted his eyes to her, knowing she was waiting to say something to him. “Stay.”
“I beg your pardon?” he said in surprise, his voice so quiet, he could barely hear it himself.
“There is far too much food for just me to enjoy.” She gestured at the table. “Please, stay and have dinner with me.” Her pleading tone and those intent green eyes made him want to say yes, but it would be a step too far.
“Your Grace, I would stay, if I could,” he said, stepping towards her and holding that gaze. She nodded slowly, looking down to her plate again.
“I understand.”
“I am sorry,” he whispered to her and made a move to walk away. He couldn’t resist one last touch, though. He passed his hand across the top of her arm, kneading it. Though he was wearing gloves and she bore long sleeves, it thrilled him still, as though it had been a touch of skin brushing together.
You will drive me mad, Your Grace.
***
As Owen stepped into the kitchen, he huffed and sighed, realizing just how tempted he had been to give in and give the duchess what she wanted, to sit down and eat with her, yet he couldn’t. He was a butler; through and through. He would not betray his master so as to eat at his dinner table, partaking of his food, with his wife.
“You are back.” Tommie’s loud voice called to him across the room. “I did not expect you back so soon,” he said with clear mischief in his voice.
“What does that mean?” Owen asked as he walked past the scullery maids and Tommie’s assistants, reaching him by the work bench where he was currently beating an almond paste together. “Good God, what are you doing to that thing?”
“It needs beating up,” Tommie explained as he struck the wooden top with the paste, beating it into submission. “It is the only way to make it mouldable.”
“Remind me never to upset you,” Owen said wryly, pulling a laugh from Tommie.
“I am rather heavy-handed, aren’t I?” he said before turning his attention to his assistants. “Allie, prepare the almonds. They need blanching. Harry, that needs watching. Do not leave anything alone on that stove.”
“Yes, cook,” the answer came back, allowing Tommie to turn his attention back to Owen and lean over the almond paste.
“You asked me what I meant about not expecting you back so soon?”
“So I did,” Owen said, reaching forward to the almond paste and nicking a bit that had fallen off onto the chopping board.
“Oi.”
“You weren’t using it,” Owen said as he bit into it. “Delicious.”
“Good,” Tommie said with delight. “I meant that you spend so often above stairs these days, I wondered if you would start having dinner there,” he whispered.
Though Owen knew no one else could hear what was being said other than themselves, he went rigid.
“I have not been above stairs.” The lie made his mouth dry. “I have simply spent more time in my office.”
“Do you not remember me coming to your office to share the last of the brandy that we cannot use in our baking?” Owen said with a laugh. “We used to do that often. We have not done it for the last week. For I keep finding your office empty.”
Owen looked around in panic, but no one was paying attention. It gave him the opportunity he needed. He reached out and placed a hand over the almond paste, earning Tommie’s attention.
“Oi, I was starting to shape that into a hedgehog.”
“Then you were a long way off, for it looked more like a dolphin,” Owen said and leaned towards him. “Tommie, please tell me you are not telling people I have been absent from my office.”
“What sort of fool do I look like to you?” Tommie whispered and snatched the almond paste from under Owen’s hands. “I may not know where you go in the evenings, though I could make a wager on who you are with, but I would not talk openly about it. Only to you. Though I’d say I thought you had more caution in you than to do this.”
“Do what? It sounds like you have an active imagination, my friend.”
“Well, quiet man, it seems like you have more intrigue and artfulness in you than I thought,” Tommie said, laughing under his breath as he shaped the almond paste into a hedgehog.
“Tommie …” Owen’s warning tone was enough.
