“Come,” June said, rising and tugging her hand. “You need sustenance. And coffee. And possibly something stronger, depending on how the morning unfolds.”
April followed, letting herself be led. The brooding could wait.
Would you have allowed him to kiss you, had June not found you?April refused to answer that question.
“My Lady,” the butler said as he entered the breakfast room, his tone impeccably measured. “His Grace has called.”
April, who had only just begun buttering her toast, stared at him. “Pardon?”
“The Duke of Stone is presently in the front hall, My Lady.”
She nearly dropped her knife. “Now?”
May made a delighted noise. June, unsurprised, simply sipped her tea. “I told you,” she said with a sideways glance. “Flowers and a noble steed.”
April groaned. “If there’s a steed, I’m leaving through the back garden.” It was far too early for anyone to visit without a purpose, let alone a man who claimed to abhor social ceremony. She had only just stood when the door opened and in walked Stone himself, bearing a modest bouquet of dark violets and white hyacinths. Under his other arm was a book.
Flowers. From him. She stared at the blooms as though they might bite.
“Good morning, Lady April,” he said with no more ceremony than if he were reporting the weather.
“I… good morning.”
He handed her the bouquet without flourish. No smile. No explanation. Then the book.
She blinked at the cover.Collected Versesby E. Ashcombe.
She nearly dropped it. “This is Ashcombe.”
“So it says.”
“He’s very nearly controversial.”
“He’s nearly brilliant.”
April flipped through the pages, scanning familiar lines. “You brought me poetry. Again.”
“You are still reading Spenser. I thought you might manage two poets at once.”
She gave him a sidelong look. “First, you gift meThe Faerie Queene.Now, Ashcombe. At this rate, I’ll start thinking you’re softening.”
“Perish the thought.”
She gave him a dry smile. “You might be developing affections. It happens to the best of men.”
“Not to me,” he said, but he looked at her just long enough to make her wonder.
A beat passed. “Why are you here?”
“We are going for a walk.”
“Are we?”
“Yes. I am in want of conversation, and your sisters are likely to exhaust me.”
April narrowed her eyes. “You make it sound like charity.”
“Not at all,” he said, offering his arm. “Come. The park awaits.”
