Page 7

Nancy woke at her customary time, even though she’d stayed up a bit late the night before.

Once she’d finally met up with Kitty, that woman introduced her to several other women at the house party, and they’d all had a cozy chat in the drawing room until yawns became more popular than talking.

All Kitty’s sisters were lovely, as were those women’s spouses, and there were an impressive number of unattached but hopeful women as guests too.

Rumor throughout the house party was that the earl was looking for a bride, and it must have been the truth, for her roommate, Miss Thompson, had her sights set on landing him. She’d told Nancy so as they’d turned in last night.

She’d kept her own counsel on that; clearly if the earl had remained a bachelor over the years, he certainly didn’t want to marry, at least not for himself, and wedding merely for the sake of a title seemed a disingenuous thing to do.

Not that she was an expert at marriage since hers had been little better than a sham.

With that less than inspiring thought, Nancy left her bed and then did the necessary behind the painted silk privacy screen.

Since she didn’t want to summon her maid and risk waking her roommate, she donned a petticoat as well as a lawn dress in navy.

It was plain and had next to no adornment, but it was early yet in the day and there was no need for fancy.

If luck was with her, she could enjoy a cup of tea as well as breakfast by herself and then sneak into the earl’s library to immerse herself into a delicious book or two in the hopes that the house party would go on without her… and avoid the earl.

After that horrible and surprising string of admissions she’d shared with Edward, the embarrassment had set in. The last thing she wanted to do was see him in any sort of capacity, for she couldn’t imagine what he thought of her.

It took very little time following putting on her half-boots and shawl to make her way through the still-quiet corridors and find the breakfast parlor on the second level at the opposite end of the house from the formal dining room.

Because it was half past seven in the morning—and in many country houses still too early for breakfast hours—she was, indeed, the only one in the room, but as soon as she entered, a footman appeared and went directly to the sideboard to fill her a plate.

With a tiny sigh of contentment, Nancy sipped her tea, and then nodded her thanks when the footman put a plate before her.

As she picked and ate from the golden fluffy scrambled eggs, hamsteak, and toast triangles with marmalade, she gazed out the window that looked out onto the back lawn of the estate.

The grounds were covered by snow, and that same precipitation drifted lazily down from gray, overcast skies.

Not that she minded, for it made everything seem that much cozier.

“Oh. I didn’t think anyone would rise as early as I do, but I’ll leave you to your privacy.”

At the sound of the earl’s voice, Nancy’s head came up.

Dear heavens, had his presence always filled a room?

Her hand froze with the teacup midway to her lips.

“Uh… I have always woken with the dawn; I don’t know any other way of being.

” She shrugged. “That’s a good indication that I’m no longer a society lady. ” Then she took a sip of tea.

“Bah.” He waved away the comment. “It only means you have certain sleep habits, as do I, and that you probably dislike wasting the day by sleeping until noon.” After greeting the footman, he dropped himself onto a chair near her location on a sofa.

Soon, the robust scent of coffee filled the air as the footman brought over a cup of the fragrant brew. “Thank you, Daniel.”

Though she’d never liked the taste of coffee—it was entirely too bitter for her liking—Nancy admitted to herself that she might change her mind, for the smell was intoxicating. While he indulged in the first few sips of the beverage, she took the opportunity to study him.

He’d aged a bit in the intervening thirteen years.

Faint lines framed his mouth and the corners of his eyes.

Strands of silver glinted in his hair at the temples, and there were shadows in his dark brown eyes that spoke of secrets and disappointments that tugged at her curiosity.

She had no idea how old he was, perhaps nearing forty, but he was nearly as fit as he’d been when she’d last seen him, and with his expertly tailored jacket, waistcoat, and breeches, he was quite an attractive man.

“Do I have something on my face?”

She frowned. “Not that I’m aware. Why?”

“You are staring at me quite intently.”

“Oh, I apologize. Just thought I saw vestiges of the man you’d been…

before.” That was a silly explanation and betrayed more of an interest in him than she perhaps had.

Not knowing what else to say, Nancy blew out a breath.

“No matter how you feel about hosting a house party, I appreciate that your staff is serving breakfast for those of us who rise early. If I had to wait for two hours or so until the regular time, I would go mad.”

One corner of his mouth quirked but he didn’t fully grin. “So then, you aren’t the type of woman who enjoys a mug of drinking chocolate while writing letters as you’re waiting for breakfast?”

“I used to be when I was first married, and especially during the time I was increasing, but I thought it was wasting a portion of the day waiting for that day to officially start.” There were many times that she felt her words didn’t make sense to other people.

“Instead, I answer correspondence in the afternoon a couple of days a week.” She poked at the food on her plate with her fork.

“And with Andrew away at school now, my days feel long and empty.”

Why couldn’t she stop sharing private things about her life with him? Yet there was something about this man that invited confidences. Again, why? She’d never felt that about him before.

He nodded and refrained from commenting while the footman brought him a plate loaded with the same sorts of foods she had. “I have found over the years that responding to correspondence brings a sense of calm at times simply due to it being a benign activity.”

“I suppose.”

They ate in silence, and oddly enough, it wasn’t fraught with nerves or uncomfortable feelings. It was as if they’d known each other for ages, instead of only having met one night thirteen years ago.

“How have you been keeping yourself?” she asked him as she pushed a bit of scrambled egg about her plate. “Have you not married?” Perhaps the rumors were wrong.

One of his blond eyebrows rose in surprise. “I assumed you listened to society gossip.”

“I haven’t in some time, for I know how it is to be at the center of rumors, and then after a while, I didn’t care.

” She took a tiny bite from one of her toast triangles.

“For a long time, I had been consumed by grief and anger, so I ignored what was happening around me in London, so please indulge me. What has been going on in your life? According to my roommate, you hope to find a bride within the guests here at your house party.”

Good heavens, Nancy, stop talking!

A faint trace of a flush rose up his neck. “While it is true I have been putting out hints that I might like to marry, I rather doubt I’ll find the woman I wish to spend a lifetime with here at this house party.”

“How can you know that? Christmastide hasn’t yet arrived, and your party has only gotten started.

” Then she laid her fork on her plate of half-eaten food.

“Not to put to fine a point on things, but you don’t have a paunch, you have all your hair, your breath doesn’t smell like garlic, and you don’t have the pox.

Any woman would choose you above all others if you were to ask.

” In fact, she remembered when she’d been in his arms yesterday as he’d comforted her, that his shaving soap or cologne had smelled like evergreens and wind-driven snow with just a veriest hint of peppermint.

It had been like winter personified.

“Should I be flattered that you have categorized my form in such a way?” His lips twitched, but a grin still didn’t materialize. “Not that I mind your assessment.”

Heat slapped at her cheeks. “I merely made an observation.” When the footman took away her plate, she nodded her thanks. “However, here is another observation—I don’t see Miss Thompson as the next Lady Armestead.”

He chuckled, then, and when a grin curved his sensuous lips, her gaze dropped to his mouth, and all she could remember was that night when he’d kissed her right before asking for her hand. “Neither do I. She is far younger than me, and I’ll wager she’s a title chaser. Rather desperate at it.”

At least there was that. “Is there someone else here you might have romantic tendencies toward? I only ask because you must have filled your years with something.”

“Not you, too?” He huffed out a breath, finished the last bite of his toast, and then frowned. “You are as bad as Reggie.”

Oh, dear, she couldn’t remember who that was, for once they’d parted, she’d put everything about him from her mind. “I imagine the people in your circle are concerned about your well-being and your future.”

“Perhaps you are correct. My mother would have been so disappointed in my failure to marry and fill my nursery.” He then drained his cup, but the footman was there to promptly refill it and take away the plate.

“The fact of the matter is that I haven’t had the enthusiasm enough to put myself out into society in order to scrutinize the offerings. ”