“Can I assist you, my lady?” Ribble reappeared.
“You left me with those two, Ribble. I’m not sure I can forgive you for that.” Sophie followed these words with a smile.
“They are good women, if a little stern and unused to having anyone question them, including me,” he said. “Now, I believe Lord Coulter is awaiting you to take tea, if you will follow me, my lady.”
Patrick was seated in a parlor with ivory silk walls and elegant furniture. He smiled as she arrived.
“Did you have fun meeting Pitt, the pillar of Garland?” Patrick asked, rising as she moved to take the seat beside him.
Sophie felt her cheeks heat as she remembered last night and how she had slept in his arms.
“She seems… nice,” Sophie said.
“Nice? She used to snap at me at any given opportunity.” Patrick grinned, which made him look less like an earl and more like a rogue.
“I bet you deserved it,” Sophie said, reaching for the teapot.
He took it from her and poured the tea.
“I can pour my own tea.”
“So can I,” he said. “And you have a sore shoulder. Now, what, my sweet wife, has put those roses in your cheeks?”
“Nothing at all, my lord. I merely grew flustered hurrying to meet with you.” Sophie busied herself stirring in milk.
“Liar. I think you were remembering last night.”
“Patrick!” Sophie hissed. At least Ribble had gone.
“Sophie,” Patrick mimicked her.
“I also met Mrs. Gumbrill.”
“Grouchy Gumbrill,” Patrick said.
“Do you have names for all of your staff?” Sophie questioned, lifting one eyebrow.
Patrick shrugged. “We had to find some ways to amuse ourselves.”
“I am looking forward to meeting your sisters and their families, Patrick.”
“As they are looking forward to meeting you, my sweet wife.”
He seemed different here, more relaxed.
“When you are ready and your arm is healed, we will go riding.”
“No, thank you. I cannot ride and have no wish to learn,” Sophie said.
“And yet, I want you to learn, wife, so we can ride together,” Patrick added.
“No.”
“Yes.”
Sophie glared at him. “I do not like horses. They are large angry beasts always stomping their feet?—”
“Hooves,” Patrick supplied helpfully.
