“I just came by to apologize to your lovely wife. I was unaccountably late last night, and my eye is really unconscionable,” he added.
With no more food to add to my pile, I was left to take a seat. Now that I had the whole mess in front of me, the mixed smells were adding to the tenuousness of my grasp on my stomach. Faced with the unappetizing choice of eating or the unappealing choice of conversing, I was forced to choose the latter.
“What was the reason for the eye this time? I cannot recall,” Katherine asked Michael.
“Runaway carriage filled with puppies. One of the poor beasts stepped on my eye in their gratitude for my daring rescue.”
“You’re a credit to the race of men. It’s astounding you managed to retain the eye,” I muttered.
I took a pointed bite of toast, accompanying it with a glare. He had no business visiting my wife at this hour. It was nearly half a minute before I realized I had been chewing the bite for far too long, avoiding the inevitable. With no other choice, I swallowed it down and it hit my stomach like lead.
“Yes, you sound infinitely pleased,” he said.
“Positively dancing inside.”
“Though I do think I would look quite dashing with an eyepatch. Kate, what do you think?” he asked.
“Katherine has no opinion on your looks, dashing or otherwise. I presume you have managed to deliver your apology?”
“What do you think Kate, have I made a sufficient go of it?” he asked her.
“I suppose it will do for present. And I think you would make a smart pirate, swashbuckling across the seven seas, taking no prisoners.”
The toast threatened to make a reappearance. Why had Michael and I been getting along so well lately? He was positively unbearable.
“Very well then, it seems my work here is done.” He rose and offered Katherine an exaggerated bow. “Avast and shiver me timbers m’lady. Hugh.”
“You’re an atrocious pirate.”
“Go back to bed, Hugh. You’re being an arse.” He said, trailing down the hall in the opposite direction of the front door before I could make a retort. Something about giving him the last word smarted more than it ought.
Kate stood and rang the bell. A servant arrived quickly, a quiet request made, and she returned to the table but chose the seat beside me rather than her previous position at the other end. With one hand, she slid her half-empty teacup and saucer in front of her. Taking a delicate sip with a speculative expression, she surveyed the damage to my person. In mere minutes, the red-haired servant girl arrived with a cup of black coffee in one hand and a glass of something thick, off-white, and creamy with black flecks in it.
“Absolutely not,” I said.
“It’s an old Scottish remedy. A traveling trapper who stayed with us through a long snowstorm, swore by it.”
“Not even if this were the only food-like offering left in the country.”
“Hugh.”
“Katherine.”
“It’s just buttermilk, heated and thickened with a bit of corn flour with some salt and pepper for taste.”
“That is even more revolting than what I thought it was.”
“What did you think it was?”
“I won’t drink it.”
“Well, I won’t sit here and subject myself to your bad temper. Particularly if you refuse to do anything about it. Enjoy your breakfast.” She set her now empty teacup back in the saucer with a pointed clatter before rising to leave.
“Katherine, wait. I am sorry, that was unforgivably rude. Even if you are attempting to poison me, I can see it was done with the best of intentions.”
“Honestly, if I were going to kill you, that is hardly the manner I would choose.” She said it in such an easy tone that it took a moment for the full meaning of her words to arrange themselves in my mind. By that time, she was already halfway to the door.
“Katherine?”
