“Very well then, some bacon, thank you.” She paused. “Where shall I take it?”
“I’m having mine right here.” Gabriel crossed the room and swung a long leg over one of the chairs that surrounded the long kitchen table.
Callie stared. The master of the house eating in the kitchen? She’d never heard of such a thing. He must have read her mind, for he said, “I’ve been breaking my fast in Mrs. Barrow’s kitchen since I was Nicky’s age and younger. Best place in the world, I thought it was when I was his age, apart from the stables.” He glanced across at Jim. “I’ll wager Jim thinks so, too, now he’s tasted Mrs. Barrow’s cooking, eh, Jim?” The boy nodded fervently.
“I shall take my breakfast in the…” Callie wasn’t sure where. She only knew she wasn’t going to eat bacon in the kitchen with that man watching her. And with the taste of his kisses still on her mouth.
“The breakfast room, ma’am?” suggested Mrs. Barrow. “In about fifteen minutes?”
“Yes, if you will just tell me where it is,” Callie agreed gratefully.
Chair legs scraped on the stone-flagged floor. “I’ll escort you.” Gabriel held out his arm.
Unable to refuse, Callie took his arm and allowed him to lead her to the breakfast room. Sunshine streamed through long French windows. They opened on to a terrace that overlooked the garden at the side of the house. Small enough to be cozy without being poky, the room was decorated in pale green and white with rose upholstery and curtains. It was almost as if the garden had crept into the room.
“Oh, what a pretty room,” she exclaimed, forgetting she’d planned to crush him with dignified silence.
“I believe my great-aunt was fond of it. I never use it,” he said indifferently, pulling out a chair for her at an oval mahogany table.
She walked to the French windows and stepped out onto the terrace. “I never had a great-aunt,” she said. “Were you fond of yours?”
He followed her outside. “Yes. She was a terrifying old lady, but with a very kind heart. She used to give me a daily grilling on my lessons.” He quirked a rueful smile. “Boys were a variety of humanity she believed were in dire need of civilizing—which came in the form of discipline, exercise, and rewards.”
He saw her expression and laughed. “Great-aunt Gert was passionate about the training and breeding of dogs. She treated boys much the same way—not the breeding, of course. But don’t get the idea she was some mad old recluse—she also adored the social whirl and went up to London every season—to terrify the ton, Harry and I always thought. She always returned much refreshed.”
Callie smiled and strolled a few steps along the path. “She didn’t have any children of her own?”
“Lord, no! I doubt there was a man in England brave enough to marry her.”
“That’s sad,” Callie said. It was warm in the morning sun. Bees were already out and buzzing around the sweet Alice and the lavender. The pathway led to a circular bed containing a sundial. She walked toward it.
He followed her. “With sentiments like that, I’m surprised you don’t plan to marry again.”
“No, I won’t remarry,” Callie told him. “Not ever. Not to anyone. I want nothing further to do with men.”
He heaved a sigh. “That’s my hopes and dreams dashed forever, then.”
They walked on. It had been a good thing to set him straight, Callie thought. Best to get it clear and out in the open. No misunderstandings. He’d stop bothering her now. He’d leave her alone, and that would be a good thing.
She didn’t need to be…bothered.
He was a very…bothersome man.
She darted him a sidelong glance. He’d been silent for several moments now. She hoped he wasn’t too crushed by her announcement. Not that he should be—they’d only just met, for heaven’s sake.
He caught her looking. “So,” he said. “You’re absolutely sure. No plans to marry again?”
She gave a firm nod. “None.”
“You wouldn’t consider becoming my mistress?”
She stopped short, scandalized. She’d told him she had principles. She whirled to face him. His eyes were laughing at her. He was teasing her, she realized.
The way he laughed with his eyes, laughing and seeming to…caress…at the same time…it was most disconcerting.
“You are joking,” she told him.
“Am I indeed?”
