“If I had dropped this, you think I could have hidden it from the duke?” he asked in a whisper. “Good Lord, that could have been the end of me here.”
“You didn’t drop it; all is well, Owen,” she said, walking quickly to his side. Owen glanced repeatedly around them, not only checking the two doors placed either side of the cabinets full of silver, but checking through the windows too, apparently looking for gardeners.
“You cannot call me that during the day when others can find us. It is too risky.”
“No one is here,” she said with a smile, stepping even closer towards him. After his words, she half expected him to step away from her again, but he didn’t. His somewhat harried and frantic movements slowed. He replaced the pitcher on one of the cabinet shelves and slid off his white gloves before turning towards her.
“Why is it you seem to make me want to risk everything?”
“Because it’s worth risking for?” she asked in a soft whisper.
“Too true.” He checked the windows one last time before he closed the distance between them and reached down to her, planting a soft kiss on her lips.
It was tormenting to her in its gentleness, such a far cry from what they had experienced together on the rug in the library the other night, that had she not been clinging to the pages of her story, she would have reached up and clung to him.
As he pulled back from her, she leaned forward, trying to maintain the kiss for as long as possible. He chuckled against her lips, the mere feeling sending a tingle of excitement down her spine before they parted, looking at one another with reddening cheeks.
“That was very risky indeed,” he whispered, looking to the windows one last time. “Did you come to seek me out for such risks and more kisses?”
“Yes and no,” she said, smiling as she presented her papers to him.
“Your story?” he asked, taking them from her.
“Yes. It’s complete. I have done the rewrites I wished to do, all the edits, and I would like your opinion on it. If you think it’s good enough, I was thinking …” She paused and looked down, building the courage to say what was on her mind.
“You were thinking?” Owen prompted her on. The words were so soft they filled her with the courage to speak her mind.
“I was thinking of following your advice. Perhaps I can never know what a publisher will truly think until I send it off. So, I will send it to a publisher in London. If you think it’s good enough.”
“I already did,” he said, winking at her before he lifted the pages, flicking through them. “I’ll read it tonight and let you know my thoughts tomorrow.”
“Thank you. Truly.” Diana bobbed on her toes with the words.
“I love seeing you so excited. It’s the way you should be. Not sitting at a dining table alone with no one to talk to.” He sighed with the words. Diana stopped her bobbing, settling her gaze upon Owen as she saw the pain in his features.
“It causes you pain to see me so lonely?”
“It always does, Diana. It always does.” He bent down towards her again, stealing another one of those brief kisses. “Now, I must get back to work, or all and sundry below stairs will wonder why I spend so much time with our duchess.”
***
“Alain, come in, pull up a chair,” Owen said, taking the coach driver’s shoulder and steering him into the kitchen. At once, Tommie stopped what he was doing, with his whisk mid-air from whipping his cream and his eyes darting towards Owen with the approaching coach driver. “Come, Alain, I’ll make you a cup of tea. You must be tired after all your exploits as of late.”
“Oh, too true!” Alain said with his thick French accent. “Our Lord has me always going here and there.”
“Well, sit down, and you can tell me all about it.” Owen pushed him into the nearest stool before rounding the kitchen worktop and reaching Tommie’s side.
“Is there a reason you’ve brought the coach driver into my clean kitchen trailing mud and clay all over his boots?” Tommie asked, pointing down at the muddied floor with his cream-filled whisk.
“There is,” Owen whispered back to him. “Quick. Fetch him something to eat while I make him some tea. It’s imperative I talk to him before anyone else comes back into the kitchen.”
“You have me intrigued indeed,” Tommie said, reaching for the pantry door. “I’m not giving him a piece of the trifle, no matter how longingly he looks at it. Heads up!” he called. Owen flicked around just in time as a biscuit flew through the air, catching it easily. “That one’s for you. Now you’ve been bribed; care to tell me exactly what is going on?”
“You’ll see.”
Owen hurried with the tea as Tommie served up a piece of tart that had been plated up for Diana the night before but had gone unfinished. With the kitchen empty except for the three of them, Owen finally had the chance to interrogate the driver and discover what secrets he knew.
“It is odd for you to be back without our master, Alain,” Owen said, starting conversationally as he sat opposite the driver and sipped his tea.
