His housekeeper’s eyes widened. “Of course, your grace, I’ll take this for you.”
Nicholas reached out and plucked the tray from her hands. “I can take it myself Mrs. Tenner.”
He knew he’d surprised her but didn’t wait for her response as he walked to the breakfast room, a cheery room his mother had spent a great deal of her time in when she was alive. Grace was seated at the small round table set in the recess of the huge picture window. She started as he walked in and promptly dropped her spoon into her soup as their eyes met. “Nicholas, I… err…” Her voice petered out as she tried in vain to fish her spoon out of the hot liquid without getting any on her fingers.
“Would you like some help?” he enquired politely placing his tray onto the table.
Grace glanced down at the mess she’d made of her napkin and her face flamed. Swiftly, Nicholas used his own spoon to lift out the offending cutlery. Once clear, he deftly wiped it on his own napkin and presented it back to her with a flourish. Hesitantly, she took the spoon and looked back down at her bowl in mortification. “Thank you,” she whispered wishing a hole would appear to swallow her up. Or failing that, he would simply leave quickly.
“May I join you for luncheon?”
Surprise made her lift her head quickly as he gestured toward the seat across from her.
Making an effort to gather herself together, Grace nodded her acquiescence. “Of course, though I wasn’t aware it was customary for a duke to bring his own lunch with him.”
His lips lifted in an unwilling smile as he took his place. “I’m afraid I intercepted my own meal.”
Finally, a smile, albeit a small one. Nevertheless, she felt her spirits lift at the sight and matched his smile with a tremulous one of her own.
Nicholas felt the blood in his veins heat at the sight. His wife was truly lovely when she smiled. “Well then I’m glad you did,” she offered shyly.
Determinedly pushing aside thoughts of his wife’s allure, Nicholas uncovered the plate and picked up the fork. “How are your rooms?”
“Lovely. They are much larger than I’m used to. As you know, I have seven sisters and a brother, so I’m used to small spaces.”
Although he was accustomed to being in close proximity with lots of bodies, he couldn’t imagine being crammed into the Reverend’s home with all those family members. “This house is now your home,” Nicholas said instead. “Feel free to make any changes as you see fit. Perhaps you’d like to start with the floor…”
Her eyes flew to his. Was he actually teasing her? She endeavoured to look serious. “As you’re no doubt aware Nicholas, I gave the floor a thorough inspection on the day of our marriage and I’m happy to report that I found it more than adequate.”
He quirked a grin and Grace felt her heart lurch. Dear God, he was handsome when he wasn’t looking so stern.
They sat in silence for a few moments, returning their attention to their luncheon.
“What about you Nicholas?” Grace asked reaching for her water glass as she finished eating. “Returning home must have been difficult.”
“It was my duty,” he replied, spearing the food before him. His clipped tone warned her against pursuing the subject. He had no wish to discuss with her or anyone the emotions that had assaulted him on his return.
Grace mentally kicked herself. Clearly the subject of his change in circumstance was a sore one.
“Do you ride?”
Nicholas nearly dropped his fork but recovered so quickly that she didn’t notice the sudden shake of his hand. He hadn’t ridden since the night they’d lost Peter. “No.”
“Me neither,” Grace sighed, pushing away her bowl. “I’ve never really had the opportunity or the inclination.”
Some of the tension eased from his shoulders. “Then what do you do?”
A dreamy smile crossed her lips. “I enjoy reading mostly. I abhor embroidery. I much prefer to be outdoors.”
Nicholas raised his eyebrows. In his experience genteel young ladies did not usually spend a vast amount of time looking at books, unless it was to indulge in the latest gossip at the circulating library.
“Novels?” he asked, genuinely interested.
Grace nodded, her eyes sparkling. “I am currently reading Robinson Crusoe.”
Nicholas was surprised. “I would have thought such a title is not commonly favoured by ladies of a gentle disposition?”
Grace studied his face, wondering if he was reprimanding her. There seemed to be no censure in his expression however, merely a polite interest. She took a deep breath and spoke the truth.
“I’m not really a gentle woman at all though, as you must be aware.”
Nicholas frowned, wondering if this would be a good time to bring up the possibility of tutoring her in the responsibilities expected of a duchess. Instead he found himself saying, “We have a library here in Blackmore.” While it was unlikely the books in its shelves would provide her with any insight into her new role, they would certainly distract her and keep her from getting under his feet.
Keeping her happy had nothing to do with it…
Her eyes flew to his. “Truly?”
He nodded. “Would you like to see it?”
She looked down at his still full plate. “As soon as you finish your meal, your grace. I can wait.”
No longer hungry, and curious to know what her thoughts of Blackmore’s extensive library would be once she saw it, Nicholas pushed the plate away and stood. “Come.”
Grace scrambled to his side, and as they walked out of the room together, the tantalizing smell of jasmine tickled his nose. Surreptitiously he breathed the scent in, glancing down at Grace as she walked carefully by his side. Her eyes were firmly on the floor, no doubt in case she missed her footing.
Finally reaching the library, Nicholas pushed open the door and stood back, allowing Grace to step in first before following in close behind her. She turned in a slow circle, her expression awed. “What a beautiful room,”
