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Awkwardly, she accepted the offer of the chair, realizing she herself had never been to a fancy dinner and remembering the dowager’s plans. Hastily, Olivia swallowed and turned in her seat to see Alistair marching across the kitchen to the cold box.

He’d lit a brace of candles which seemed out of place, but by their light she watched him pulling things from various containers and cabinets, his back to her.

“What are you doing?” she called.

He stilled, but of course didn’t answer. Instead, he bent back over his work, moving even faster.

When he turned…

Olivia caught her breath.

In one hand, he held the candles, and in the other…

A huge smile split her face.

He’d made her a midnight spread.

There, stacked haphazardly on a platter, was a small round of Edam cheese, a spread of stilton, and what—if she wasn’t mistaken—appeared to be the Scottish hard cheese Dunlop, which had reminded her of cheddar when she’d been lucky enough to try it years ago. He’s also included a pair of crisp apples, a heel of brown bread, and a mustard pot.

She was already half out of her seat with glee, and reached eagerly to take the platter from him. Alistair pulled a knife from under his arm, and plunked the candelabra down against the wall. He stepped back toward the darkened far wall, and when he returned, he was carrying a bottle.

And two tankards.

Olivia’s brows rose as he settled across from her and busied himself with pouring them both what smelled like beer. Not only had he made her a midnight snack, he was joining her?

“You don’t have to stay with me, if you’d prefer to sleep,” she assured him, even as she began to saw at the bread, cutting it into small chunks. “Hiro indicated you didn’t sleep well last night.”

It was as close as she’d come to admitting she’d been hurt by his absence from her chamber. When she saw a flash of gray from under her new husband’s lashes, she wondered if he’d picked up on the hint.

Alistair handed her the glass of beer, then reached into his pocket and emerged with the small pad of paper she’d given him the day after their wedding.

Really, how could she do anything except smile?

The small pencil scratched across the paper, and she was able to read his words.

I am hungry as well. Do you mind if I join you?

“Not at all.” Although she wondered if he were telling her the complete truth. “Is this Dunlop? Do you want some?”

Yes to both.

The next few minutes were spent dividing up the bounty and slicing the apple, while she chattered about nothing much at all. Soon each had a small pile of deliciousness in front of them, and when she bit into the slice of Dunlop placed atop the chewy bread—topped with just a dollop of mustard—she didn’t bother swallowing her moan of enjoyment.

His gaze was on her lips, and he was smiling.

She liked that—his smile. She liked that he did smile.

Alistair clearly valued control, but he allowed his true feelings to show, and she was grateful for that.

“I’m rather fond of cheese.”

One of his brows rose and she flushed, reaching for another tasty morsel.

“That is possibly an understatement.”

His other brow joined the first.

“Fine,” she huffed. “Cheese is the love of my life.”