Quite overwhelmed for the hundredth time since running out of her wedding, but also pleased with their agreement, Nia watched Jasper return the lap desk to the box beneath the bench and then remove the picnic basket.
And as he settled back onto the bench beside her, he turned and asked, “When was the last time you ate?”
Nia blinked a few times before answering. “Mrs. Charles gave me a few biscuits yesterday…” But otherwise, she’d been too nervous to eat anything the morning of her wedding.
“That’s what I thought. I should have pulled this out earlier.” He proceeded to dig into the basket. “Let’s see what we have here. Ah, cheese, bread. This appears to be chicken, and I hope these are pigeon pies. If you prefer something sweet, there’s a tin of biscuits.” He turned back to hand her a small plate, a cup, and linen and then withdrew a bottle of wine.
The look on his face was almost boyish.
He was nothing like either of the potential husbands her parents had chosen for her. Feeling a cautious optimism, Nia deduced that fate might have done her a favor when she’d climbed into the Baron of Westcott’s carriage.
Of all the gentlemen in Mayfair, she may just have found the perfect one to marry.
They hit a rut, and Jasper scrambled to contain their picnic. “I’d ask the driver to stop but—”
“We oughtn’t waste any time,” Nia supplied, and he dipped his chin.
It was a sober reminder of their near run-in with the men who worked for her father. She refused, however, to dwell on the embarrassing things they’d said about her.
Jasper flashed her a grin, and she saw some of what she’d expected based on his reputation.
Charm. Charisma.
“I’ve no doubt, however, that the two of us will manage without dumping the contents onto the floor.”
“You’re very optimistic,” she said.
“I’m more likely to succeed when I imagine myself succeeding.” He spoke as he handed her a paper-wrapped pie, and then added a few strawberries to her plate.
“Did your father teach you that?” The man had to have been optimistic to have married so many different women following the loss of his wife.
“I suppose. Although not where women are concerned.” But then he winked over his shoulder at her. “Present company excepted, of course.”
“Of course.” Nia pressed her knees together. Because his wink, along with that roguish expression, summoned those tingles again.
Just a wink and a smile? How was it that he could so easily fluster her?
Jasper divvied out more of the food and prepared a plate for himself. And while he rummaged around in the basket, she found herself watching his muscles move beneath his shirt and breeches. He was not only handsome, but fit and strong.
When he sat back, his upper arms touched her shoulders. Adjusting his own plate, his elbow prodded hers, their hands brushed, and the full length of his thigh dwarfed hers. Despite her attempt to ignore his closeness, all of Nia’s senses honed into the places where they touched.
“You must be an optimist as well,” he said before biting into the pie. The spices used in the pigeon pie quickly filled the small space in the carriage—nutmeg, pepper, and curry. Nia took a careful bite of her own and nearly groaned when the flavors hit her mouth.
Because suddenly, she was starving. The veal, mushrooms, and fresh shallots tasted like nothing she’d had before, and whereas she’d normally only allow herself just a few bites, feeling responsible for maintaining proper conversation, she had nearly finished the entire thing before realizing it.
Rather than comment on her appetite, Jasper reached across and into the basket and withdrew the tin of biscuits. She took one.
“Take a few.” He waited until she did as he suggested before returning it, and for the next several minutes, they ate in a comfortable silence.
After they’d finished, together, they drank most of the wine, leaving her surprisingly content and more than a little sleepy. Nia returned the leftover dishes and food to the basket, and Jasper assisted her in placing it back inside the bench. After a few unsuccessful attempts to get comfortable in her respective corner, Jasper reached across the space between them and pulled her against him.
She startled, and he must have read the question on her face because he simply tucked her in closer and said, “You’ll be more comfortable this way.”
He was right, so she not only relented but added, “And warmer.”
And as a cold, slow drizzle began tapping on the roof of the Duke of Malum’s extremely well-sprung carriage, Nia would have drifted to sleep if not for a flash of lightning followed by the rumble of nearby thunder.
“Hopefully just a passing storm.” Jasper’s voice rumbled beneath her cheek. But so far, today had gone almost too well. From the lovely items Jasper had bought for her, to escaping her father’s men by being on the receiving end of her first kiss, and now having decided on marriage terms that both of them could agree on, to expect good weather would be to expect too much.
