“Good. It’s chocolate. I was afraid it might be tea.”
“Afraid? That’s an unusual comment coming from you.”
“A poor choice of words to be sure.” He carefully poured some of it into a cup.
“Do you not have an appreciation for tea?”
“I was only thinking of you. My cook serves tea warm but chocolate she makes piping hot. So, it should still be heated for you on this chilly afternoon.”
His consideration warmed her as much as his scarf. She supposed there were times she judged him too harshly.
He handed her the cup and she sipped. “It is. I thoughtyou were going to tell me she usually adds a splash or two of brandy to your chocolate but not your tea.”
The earl looked at her over his cup, his expression gentle but probing. She quirked her head as if to question him.
“Is that the way your husband liked it?” he asked.
Chapter 9
The mention of Stewart startled Brina. She swallowed hard and slowly lowered her lashes, hoping Blacknight wouldn’t see how affected she was by his mention of her husband. She supposed it was a reasonable inquiry, but not one she expected from him. From anyone. Still, she didn’t want to overreact, but had to take a moment to collect herself.
That meant not looking at the earl. She glanced away and watched a carriage roll past them in the distance. A lone rider had his horse cantering, and a couple walked arm in arm. Life was carrying on. Just as she’d had to do.
She carefully settled the cup back on the saucer. After sucking in a deep breath of the cold, windy air, she cleared her throat, kept her eyes averted, and answered, “No, Stewart wasn’t a man with many vices. He seldom drank anything other than tea. He did love horse racing,but if he ever made wagers, he kept them to himself and didn’t speak of them.”
“Did I disturb you by mentioning him?”
She lifted her gaze back to the earl’s. He watched her intently. She was not sure what, if anything, she should say. Talking about her husband wasn’t improper, though it had been a while since she’d discussed Stewart with anyone.
Blacknight stared at her long enough for her to know silence wasn’t an answer. She had to shake off her mild uneasiness that he was the first one to mention Stewart in a very long time and continue.
“All right, no. I mean, yes. In a way, I suppose. Oh, who am I trying to persuade? Yes, of course it did. How could it not?”
“That wasn’t my purpose,” he offered gently.
“I know,” she answered in a controlled voice. “It’s that people seldom speak of him anymore. Not that I blame them. He’s been gone so long. It’s hard to— Everyone still calls me Mrs. Feld, but no one seems to remember Mr. Feld.”
Blacknight nodded as if he understood when really she wasn’t sure she did.
“I didn’t know him,” the earl admitted. “But I’ll talk with you about him anytime you want.”
His soft expression and somber, sincere words suddenly made her feel like crying. She was thankful the chilling wind kept her eyes dry, and that the sensation passed quickly. Reflecting on her short marriage to Stewart wasn’t something she wanted to do with the very desirable man sitting across from her. The sadness of losing Stewart would never completely go away. She believed that was the way it was supposed to be for a man who had been as good as her husband.
She swallowed and then took another sip from her cup. “Thank you, but no. I wouldn’t want to do that.”
“All right but my offer stands.”
She made no further comment about that, but said, “The chocolate is still warm and delicious. Not too sweet.”
He looked in the basket again. Grateful he wasn’t going to press her to say more, she watched him pull out another napkin, open it, and display little fruit-topped biscuits. They looked delicious, but she was sure she couldn’t eat a bite.
“How is your cousin Robert?” she asked, wanting only to change the subject.
The earl kept his gaze concentrated on hers. “Did you forget we talked about Robert and Harper on the ride over here?”
Oh, my.Yes, she had. In her haste to forget about Stewart, she’d asked the first thing that came to her mind.
“But, I’m glad you mentioned him,” Blacknight said, not giving her time to respond to his question. “It gives me the chance to say I do think he appeared restless last night when I saw him at the club, even though he was winning. London has a much slower and more determined pace than Paris or Vienna. The people here are sometimes unbending in their outlook on life. I’m assuming that was the reason for his impatient behavior. It may take a while for him to settle down to Society’s ways again.”
