He gave her a slow smile. “Exactly.”
Callie had no idea why she should blush, but she did. “I think our breakfast will be ready now,” she said and marched briskly back to the breakfast room.
He strolled along beside her. “Yes, I’m ravenous.” The way he said it, he didn’t just mean for food.
Callie walked faster. She reentered the breakfast parlor. “Did your great-aunt live to a great age?” She was determined to stick to safe subjects.
“Yes, I believe she was eighty or more—she never would let on how old she was. Harry and I thought her a hundred, at least, when we were young. She died just after I left for the war, and for some reason, she left this house to me. I have no idea why. I certainly hadn’t expected it.”
Callie knew from Mrs. Barrow that Gabriel had spent almost eight years at war, yet the curtains looked new and the paintwork of the room seemed fresh, as if done quite recently. “So you kept her color scheme in memory of her. That’s lovely.”
“No, it isn’t. I had no say in the color scheme. When I sold out of the army, my eldest brother had this place cleaned up for me. I doubt he gave any orders about colors or fabric, so everything was simply renewed.”
“That was nice of him,” she offered.
“Hmm.” He made a noncommittal noise. “I expect he was relieved to have somewhere to put me.”
“Put you?” He didn’t seem like the sort of man anyoneputanywhere.
“I’m the youngest of three sons—legitimate ones, that is,” he explained. “Surplus to requirements, therefore. My older brother is the earl of Alverleigh, my second brother is in the diplomatic service, and I entered the army. But now that Boney is finally defeated I’m surplus to requirements there also. Ah, here is our breakfast.”
Mrs. Barrow entered, carrying a teapot, a coffeepot, and a jug, probably of milk, on a tray. She was followed by two small, ferociously clean boys, each one carefully carrying a tray containing silver chafing dishes. Callie stared. Her son had never carried a tray in his life.
The crown prince of Zindaria waiting at table. Papa and Rupert would have been utterly appalled.
Her Serene Highness, Princess Caroline of Zindaria, wanted to giggle.
The prince grinned at her, clearly enjoying himself, the mischief in his eyes conveying that he’d had much the same thought.
“That reminds me, Mr. Gabe,” Mrs. Barrow said, “I hired a few servants while I was visiting my mother.”
She set her tray down on the sideboard with a thump and fixed him with a contentious look. “You won’t have any objection to that, I’m sure. They’ll start tomorrow. Give us time to set everything to rights. Harry will be arriving any day now with Lord knows how many grooms and ostlers, and I’ll be run off me feet with just the cooking. Yes, Jim, put the hot dishes on those cork mats, otherwise they’ll ruin the varnish; careful now, don’t burn yourself. Good lad. Now off you go and start toasting that bread.”
She turned back to Gabriel, hands on hips and said, “There’s bacon and scrambled eggs and I did you some deviled kidneys, Mr. Gabe, knowing as you’re partial to them, so eat them while they’re hot. I got three maidservants for the cleaning, and two footmen, and a scullery maid, so the next time breakfast is served in here it’ll be by a footman or a maid. And Barrow reckons young Jim’s pa has been missing for some weeks, now, so I thought we could take him in and train him up for something. Can’t leave a boy to starve. Enjoy your breakfast, ma’am. I’ll send one o’them lads back in with toast in a trice.” And she swept out of the room.
Callie slipped Gabriel a sideways glance to see how he’d taken this high-handed exceeding of her duties. Rupert would have exploded with rage. Even Papa would have dismissed the woman instantly.
He was convulsed…with silent laughter.
He saw her shocked look. “I know, I know,” he said. “But you see, she’s had me naked in the bath more times than I can remember.”
Her eyes widened and Gabriel burst out laughing again at her expression. “Not for twenty years or so, I hasten to add. The last time I was about Nicky’s age and scrubbed just as ruthlessly.”
“Oh! I see.”
He gave a furtive look around and added, “I know I ought to reprove her, but, well—” He sighed. “I’m frightened of women.”
“Hah! Frightened as a cat fears mice.”
“Fond of cats, are you? Me, too. Contrary, sensuous creatures. Like women.” He grinned. “No, Mrs. Barrow more or less raised me, and I won’t reprimand her for her plain speaking, particularly since she’s right. I’ve been taking advantage of her good nature, and my brother Harry will be here next week and who knows who else.” He strolled to the array of dishes set out on the sideboard, picking up lids and peering at the contents.
“Can I offer you some of this excellent bacon? And eggs? And kidneys? Mrs. Barrow’s deviled kidneys cannot be beaten.”
“Just a little bacon, please,” she told him. She ought to have only tea and dry toast—she was cursed with a curvaceous figure and was very self-conscious of it. But the bacon smelled so delicious and it had been such a long time…
He filled two plates and set one in front of her. Hers contained a mound of bacon and some scrambled eggs. His plate contained even more, with deviled kidneys besides.
“Thank you.” There was far too much, of course, but she would just have a little. She inhaled the scent of bacon blissfully.
