Page 58 of A Cinderella to Redeem the Earl

He just wished the idea didn’t make him feel quite so uncomfortable.

Pamela gazed at the remains of her dinner, trying to ignore that the gentleman opposite her had barely spoken a word to her throughout the meal. She would have done anything to have been able to turn the clock back and undo their kiss. That brief moment of madness outside her chamber door had ruined everything.

Perhaps if she had not kissed him with such fervour, then they would have continued on in the easy manner they had developed in the weeks since she had arrived. A professional and friendly relationship that she had come to enjoy. No, not only enjoy. That she had come to rely on.

Now it almost seemed he was regretting offering her a partnership. She’d kissed him twice now—he probably thought she was a woman of loose morals who likely should not be trusted in his business. Perhaps he would worry that she would respond in the same way with other men and somehow put their enterprise at risk.

Was she even sure in her own mind that she would not?

The idea was like a hard cold fist squeezing the air out of her lungs.

They had eaten most of their meal in an uneasy silence, apart from the obligatory polite niceties.

‘You are right, Pamela. It was ill done.’

She had gone over and over his words in her mind. He had ignored her forwardness twice now, but clearly she would not be given a third chance. Likely, if it was not for their written agreement, he would have been sending her on her way.

Well. She would make sure nothing like that ever happened again and, no matter how he behaved, she was going to continue as if nothing had happened.

‘Did you find dinner to your liking?’ she asked, unable to bear the heavy weight of silence any longer. ‘I thought our new cook, Mrs Maize, did very well.’

She winced at the tentative tone in her voice. She sounded as if she wasn’t actually sure. And she was.

‘Clearly you have informed Mrs Maize of my preferences.’

She had taken great pains to do so.

He put down his knife and fork and gazed at her intently. ‘The meal...’ his eyes twinkled briefly ‘...was not a patch on the food you yourself prepare, but I am prepared to accept it, if it means your spirits are revived. Judging by your looks this evening, this is indeed the case.’

For a moment she did not quite take his meaning. As his words sank in, her face heated. Oh, my Lord, she was blushing. And there was a stupid sort of girlish giggle lodged at the base of her throat.

She swallowed. ‘Thank you, My Lord.’

‘Come now, Pamela, did we not agree to used our given names?’

‘Yes, we did, Damian. I thank you for your compliment and for your forbearance. I agree there was a little too much salt in the soup and the chicken should have been a little more tender, but Mrs Maize is very willing to learn, so I am sure everything will soon be exactly to your liking.’

He leaned back. ‘If her desserts are anywhere near as good as yours, I shall be a happy man.’

Happy.

That had been her goal, had it not, to make him happy. Or at least satisfied that he had not made the wrong decision.

She was determined to make this new venture a success. Determined to save enough to make her dream a reality.

He rose and went to the side table. ‘May I help you to some trifle?’

‘You may indeed.’

He set a dish before her and sat down. ‘They say the proof of the pudding is in the eating,’ he said with a boyish smile.

Just like that the atmosphere changed. They were easy with each other again, as if the kiss had never been.

‘They do. You try it first. I will wait with bated breath.’

He chuckled. ‘Are you worried I will send you back to the kitchen, if it does not pass muster?’

‘I would like to see you try.’