Page 23 of A Cinderella to Redeem the Earl

‘It is the perfect solution. That way I can help you with the dishes and we can have a perfect ending to a delicious meal.’ He got up and started putting the leftovers on a tray. Somewhat unwillingly she filled the other tray.

‘Ready?’ he asked.

Chapter Four

With the dishes all stacked neatly in the scullery out of sight, Pamela concentrated on making tea for His Lordship, who had disposed himself on the settle beside the large hearth where she baked her bread.

She poured the boiling water into the teapot and waited the requisite number of minutes.

His Lordship, gazing into the fire, clearly deep in his own thoughts, looked a little sad. Or was that just her imagination?

Why on earth had he wanted to take tea in the kitchen?

It felt strange. Almost scandalous.

Of course it was scandalous. Single women didn’t entertain single men like this.Be honest.Dinner had been scandalous.

But then she wasn’t a ‘single’ woman, was she? While she might never have been married, she used a married woman’s title and she wasn’t exactly an innocent. If she had been, she might have seriously considered her mother’s suggestion that she marry.

But she’d foolishly let her heart rule her head, let passion overcome good sense and given herself to the man she had expected to marry, Consequently, there was no point thinking about making any kind of marriage, let alone a good one. And besides she was perfectly happy as a cook.

On the other hand, she was nobody’s fool and she was beginning to wonder if His Lordship had some sort of ulterior motive for insisting she eat dinner with him, then inviting himself to tea in her kitchen. Unless he was as lonely as he looked at this moment.

How could a man in his position be lonely?

She poured the tea and took it over. He glanced up with a faint smile. ‘Thank you.’

He patted the seat beside him. ‘Please, make yourself comfortable.’

Sit beside him? ‘I—’

‘I do not bite, Mrs Lamb.’

She winced. Now he sounded offended. ‘Very well.’ She fetched her cup and sat down making very sure to leave a few inches of space between them. The settle was certainly a good deal more comfortable than the bench at the table.

He stretched out his legs. ‘This reminds me of my youth. We always sat around the hearth and had tea on cold days.’

‘Did you toast bread over the fire?’ she asked. ‘I love hot bread toasted on one side with the butter melting into it on the other.’

He grinned boyishly. ‘Me, too. Nothing tastes like bread you have toasted yourself.’

‘I was never allowed to hold the toasting fork. Father said it was too dangerous.’

‘Oh, I was official toaster in our home. Mother said I made a better job of it than Father. I had more patience. He always held the bread too close to the flames, trying to hurry it along.’

She grimaced. ‘Burned edges.’

‘Exactly.’

They both laughed and sipped their tea in a comfortable silence.

‘Thank you again for a wonderful meal,’ he said. ‘And for granting me your company. I don’t know when I have enjoyed an evening more.’

She looked at him askance. ‘More than your parties with all your guests? I find that hard to believe.’

A thoughtful expression crossed his face. ‘You are right.’

A little pang of disappointment took her aback.