April’s heart warmed at the mention of Theo defending a dog.He had a sense of justice then.
“And once,” Eugenia continued, “he recited an entire sonnet at the dinner table because someone said he had no imagination.”
April blinked. “That I find hard to believe.”
“As did I, but there he was, ten years old and quoting Shakespeare like a seasoned bard.”
April laughed again, the warmth of the room wrapping around her like a shawl. For a moment, she was tempted to ask,What happened to his family?
But she didn’t. To ask would be a betrayal. And somehow, she already knew it wasn’t her question to ask.
The door opened, and Theo entered. April’s spine snapped straight. He looked equally still, his frame coiled as if every muscle had frozen mid-thought.
“Auntie,” he greeted then turned to April. “Lady April.”
“Your Grace,” she said, keeping her voice even, and her smile light. She didn’t let her fingers curl on the armrest though they wanted to. For Eugenia, she would ignore everything that had happened between them in the last few days.
“Well, this is cozy. Tea for three. Come, Theo, sit.” Eugenia waved him forward. “You look as though you’ve been brooding. Tea will do you good.”
He sat without a word, his back straight and eyes masking everything beneath. April didn’t trust that silence. She remembered what could live beneath it… The rage… The violence…
She swallowed and tried to shake the thoughts away. Eugenia stood and smoothed her skirts. “Now then, I think I shall take a turn in the garden.”
April stood at once. “I’ll accompany you.”
“Nonsense,” the Countess said, waving her hand. “You came for tea, not to wear your feet out following a slow old woman. Sit, sit.”
April watched her go, stomach tightening. She resisted the urge to reach for the teapot just to have something to do. Then she looked at Theo. He was already watching her.
“You accepted my offer,” he said.
April lifted her chin, keeping her expression pleasant. “Shouldn’t I have?”
He studied her, too long and too closely, and she nearly squirmed in her seat. “It surprised me, but I have no complaints.”
She let out a small breath through her nose, careful not to show more than politeness. He unnerved her—always had—but she wouldn’t let it show.
The tension settled into a quieter, tenser rhythm. April reached for the teapot.
“Would you like some tea?”
He inclined his head. “Yes.”
She poured slowly, deliberately, adding two spoonfuls of sugar and a generous splash of cream. She slid the cup across to him, forcing her hand not to visibly tremble.
“That is not how I drink my tea,” he said, eyeing the cup as if it might betray him.
April’s smile stretched. “It’s how you used to drink it.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “And what makes you think I’ll accept it now?”
“Old things are easier to accept than new ones,” she replied.
He didn’t touch the cup. Instead, he leaned back, one brow slightly lifted.
“What is your goal, April?”
The question dropped like a stone between them. She tilted her head and watched him though she learned nothing from observing him. He would not let her see anything.
