Kit met her gaze, his eyes looking more green than brown. “A dishonest man like Washburn is the type to take revenge, and sabotaging another of my projects is effective revenge, indeed.”
She sipped from her goblet, half expecting to taste champagne instead of the sweet Rhenish wine.
“This artichoke pudding is delicious,” Ellen said with a hum of delight. “Almost worth delaying my return to Windsor.”
“I’m so glad you’re enjoying it.” Mum poured more wine. “I’d be happy to teach you how to make it.”
The girl paused with a forkful of tansy halfway to her lips. “Oh, would you? I don’t know how to cook at all.”
“No? How is that?”
Ellen chewed and swallowed. ”I was but four when my mother died. While Kit was in school and university and I lived with Lady St. Vincent, I wasn’t even allowed in the kitchen. And since then I’ve lived with Kit…”
Without brushing Rose this time, Kit set down his fork. “My sister has no need of cooking. When she marries, she’ll have an army of servants to prepare her meals.”
“Not if you won’t give me my dowry,” Ellen said darkly.
Mum looked between them. “Preparing a few special dishes can be a joy,” she told Kit carefully. “No matter whether one has staff in the kitchen. Most every lady has a number of signature recipes.”
“I would love to learn how to cook this,” Ellen said. “It was very kind of you to offer, Lady Trentingham.”
Mum smiled. “We shall have to plan another visit soon.”
“May we?” Ellen asked her brother.
“Perhaps sooner than you think.” Kit cleared his throat, sweeping both Rose and her mother with a glance. “I hesitate to presume upon our acquaintance, but I’m wondering if Ellen might stay here with you for a day or two while I take care of my business in Windsor.”
“No!” his sister burst out.
Seeing the determined set of Kit’s jaw, Rose turned to Ellen with a smile. “It could be fun. We could visit the shops at the Royal Exchange, and you could come along to my fittings. Maybe Kit would allow you to order a new gown.”
“Two,” he offered quickly, obviously willing to placate his sister.
Ellen’s eyes narrowed. “The only new gown I need is one for my wedding to Thomas.”
Kit’s eyes blazed.
“I could teach you how to cook,” Mum put in before he could open his mouth. “We could start tonight.”
“I’m lea—”
“You’re staying here,” Kit said.
If looks could kill, Rose thought, his sister would be dead as the chicken on the platter.
Ellen apparently knew when to give up. She swallowed hard and put down her fork. “You’re very kind,” she told Mum in a voice devoid of emotion. “Unlike my brother.”
A strained silence stretched between the siblings. Before more hurtful words could be spoken, Rose turned to Kit and tried to distract him. “I’ve seen what you’re doing at Windsor, but tell me about Whitehall.”
“It’s a small project, just a new altar for the Chapel Royal.” He took a bracing swallow of wine. “It’s not my design. Here is Wren’s sketch.” Setting down his goblet, he dug a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to her.
The drawing showed not only the architectural detail but also an elevation complete with an altar cloth, alms dish, candlesticks, candles, and books. The lovely columns, carving, and molding looked much more modern than she supposed the rest of Whitehall to be. “It’s beautiful.”
“Can you see the original Tudor window behind?” When he leaned close, touching a finger to the sketch, she smelled frankincense and Kit. “Wren designed this to be the same width, so the two would appear harmonious together.”
Mum reached for the drawing and nodded. “Why didn’t he build it himself?”
Kit waved a hand. “He has far more important projects. Besides, I’ve a suspicion King Charles wanted to see me spread thin. Projects at Windsor, Whitehall, and Hampton Court all at once…plus my own. It’s a test, you understand? If I can complete all three of the Crown’s projects successfully, and on time, he will know he’s found the right Deputy Surveyor.”
“And the fire threatened this deadline,” Rose said.
“Seriously. But fortunately it’s a small project, and the damage could have been worse. I hope to overcome my bad luck a second time.”
He was still tense, his answers clipped, his gaze settling too often on his sister. Rose tried again. “Hampton Court is a larger project, isn’t it?”
“The largest of the three. A whole new building. Apartments for the Duchess of Cleveland—”
“The king’s longtime mistress,” Ellen interrupted, apparently having recovered some spirit. Derision laced her voice. “He is allowed to be with whoever he wants.”
“He married where he was advised to.” Kit turned to his sister with a lethal raised brow. “If you wish to take Thomas as a lover after you wed a peer, I suppose I cannot prevent you.”
Ellen made a noise of outrage. Her brother stabbed another bite of chicken. Rose shifted on her petit-point seat, exchanging a look with her mother.
Kit must be at the very limit of his forbearance to say such things to his sister, even in obvious jest. Rose and her own siblings squabbled, of course, but they rarely harbored true animosity. She wished these two would get along. “Is King Charles wanting large apartments for the duchess?” she asked delicately.
He chewed and swallowed. “Larger than my house. He wishes their five children to have rooms there as well. I’m certain he’ll be scrutinizing this project most of all.”
“Did Wren do those plans, too?”
“No, I did. Top to bottom, start to finish, the building is mine. Thankfully, nothing has gone wrong with it.”
“Yet,” Ellen said.
He set his jaw. “When I’m finished with Harold Washburn, he won’t be making any more trouble.”
Mum pushed back from the table, looking at Ellen. “Shall we begin your first lesson? Something sweet to complete supper?” When Ellen shrugged and began to rise, Mum looked to Rose. “Perhaps you can entertain Kit while we work. A turn in the square might be nice.”
“Kit
