He wanted to say no. Tea would mean conversation, which would mean her getting to know him, and he did not want that. He preferred being an unknown entity, someone she could not think about. Still, the prospect of spending time with her was enticing, and he could not refuse it.
“We can do that, yes. Will the drawing room be best?”
She nodded, and within minutes, they were sitting across from one another, awaiting sandwiches and cakes. Cassian tried not to think about how much warmer the room felt simply because she was sitting in it.
“Do you prefer sweet or savory food?” she asked after a while.
“You must be assuming savory, yes?”
“I do,” she giggled. “Perhaps it is your demeanor, but I cannot imagine you enjoying a biscuit with icing on it, or ignoring a cucumber sandwich and instead reaching for a cake.”
“You would be wrong.”
At that moment, the tray arrived. As she poured him a cup of tea, he plucked a cake and bit into it.
The truth was that he had the most terrible sweet tooth. He could not help himself; it was the best treat to have, and he could afford to have many. He also took a square of chocolate and popped it into his mouth, chewing on it happily.
But it would seem he was guilty of making assumptions too, for she gave him a small smile before taking a sandwich and biting into it pointedly.
“You prefer savory?” he asked.
“Did you assume the contrary?”
“Of course. I thought that ladies enjoyed afternoon tea because of the treats.”
“Many do, but not me. I prefer meat over chocolate, and vegetables over fruits. I do not know why, but it has always been this way.”
“And what else do you like? You must have grown up learning the more ladylike pursuits, yes?”
“Indeed, but I must admit that I prefer to read. It is how I met the Duchess of Pridefield, actually. She used to write articles about topics that should have ruined her reputation, but I always had a taste for them. They taught me that I did not need to think in the way I was expected to.”
“I did not think that you would have such views.”
“Then you should have asked,” she said, blushing. “I may feel a certain way about matters, but I am also not a fool. I know that any lady in my position would have done what was necessary to protect her family’s reputation. But that does not mean I do not hold the same values that other, more reckless ladies might have.”
“I can understand that. I must say that I agree with many of them. For example, I find it bizarre that ladies cannot receive a formal education. The most intelligent people I have ever met are not men, I can promise you that.”
She laughed, and he felt himself settle.
For someone that he wanted to avoid, she was remarkably easy to talk to, and he did not know what to make of that. He was not supposed to find her endearing, nor was he supposed to enjoy her company. Their marriage was to be cold, cordial, and nothing more.
And yet, when she smiled at him, he wondered if he was making a mistake.
“You will like my friends,” she assured him. “They are very quick-witted, and they care about me, especially the Duchess of Pridefield.”
“You speak highly of them. But if I recall correctly, are they not older than you and me?”
“By ten years or so, yes, which is precisely why I value them so much. They have been duchesses for years, so they are exactly what I need to succeed in my new role.”
It was difficult not to admire her. She wanted to be good, even if his mother would never allow her to try. Fortunately, he had no intention of letting his servants adhere to his mother’s rules any longer. While she was away, he wanted Adelaide to take the mantle.
When he explained as much, her eyes widened, and her hands paused mid-air.
“I cannot,” she stammered. “Your mother would know, and—and if she?—”
“I do not mean to be morbid,” he sighed, “but my mother will not always be here. Eventually, you will have to fulfill your duties, and I want you to be prepared. It will only be for a week, and it will be good for you.”
“But she will hate me.”
