Page 13 of The Wise Daughter

“How efficient.” She had to admire his prompt efforts to fulfill his promises, but she was more impressed that he had inspired her father to action so quickly. “Either you or Mr. Carver must have been very persuasive. I’ve never known my father to be an early riser.”

“I don’t think it took much coaxing. Mrs. Bloom’s scones have been known to motivate many a person, including myself.” He placed another on his plate and added a large spoonful of cream. “I’ll admit, I was especially motivated to send your father off early so you and I could spend time together.”

“I see.” The words sounded thin as they left her lips.

Surely, the sudden onslaught of heat beneath her skin was only the lingering effect of having worn his coat too long.

“I have often thought it is much easier to show one’s true character outside the watchful gaze of a chaperone.”

She arched a suspicious brow at this and imagined other ladies he had charmed with such a statement.

“Whether that is true may depend on one’s disposition.

I find it takes time to show one’s true character regardless of who is watching.

Or it may simply depend on fresh scones. ” She took another large bite.

His smile returned, and his observant gaze left her wishing the fire snapping on the logs would settle a little.

He gestured to the two teapots. “I didn’t know whether you prefer tea or chocolate, so I asked for both.”

“Thank you.” Nora glanced between the two pots. She wasn’t sure her father even knew which she preferred. “I prefer chocolate on cold days and special occasions. I think becoming engaged qualifies.”

Oh dear. Why was she drawing attention to their agreement?

“I’m glad to hear you are celebrating.” He poured them each a cup and gulped as she sipped, apparently unbothered by the heat. “If I have the notion for chocolate, I simply have it. Why save what you love for only special occasions?”

“Because then I tend to value them more. When I reserve them for special occasions, they are that much sweeter and meaningful to me.”

When he finished his third scone, he dabbed at his lips with his napkin. “The truth is, I rarely was able to indulge in things like fresh scones and cups of chocolate while I attended school abroad. With that all behind me, I see no reason to deny myself the pleasure now.”

Nora noticed his words tugging slightly at swelling in his lower lip, renewing her sympathies for him.

It was no wonder that the rumors Nora had heard about this man were often at odds with each other.

Minutes ago, he had shown her how vast his land was.

Now, he was explaining how modestly he had grown up.

She observed him for as long and as often as she could without him noticing, studying the outlines of his face, searching for the truth behind those features.

She sat in constant expectation that he would say something important, ask something entirely too personal, or worse, attempt to express physical affection, but he seemed just as hungry as she was and only asked simple things like which tea she preferred (Chamomile with honey), what she liked to do in the mornings (take long walks, rain or shine), and what she enjoyed reading (everything, but especially poetry).

When Nora was finished with her breakfast, she decided it was time to discuss more important matters. “Your Grace, have you any suspicions as to who the thieves are?”

“I was wondering when you would raise that issue.” He looked hesitant to answer her question, then looked around as if checking for listening ears. They were completely alone. “None that are particularly helpful. Whoever is behind it must have easy access to the castle.”

“Someone among your staff?”

“I very much hope not, but I don’t see how it could not be so. The thieves have a knack for taking things of sentimental value.”

“Then there must be at least one among them who knows you well.”

“That is what I fear.” He grimaced again. Whether from pain or the thought of the thieves being one of his servants, she couldn’t tell.

“Have you considered hiring a thief-taker?”

“Truthfully? No. My understanding is that half are thieves themselves who require exorbitant payments.”

She nodded. “That is my understanding as well. I see no use bringing yet another stranger into the castle.” She had meant herself. She was a stranger, but the jest fell flat, even on her own ears.

Not missing her meaning, he leaned forward and placed his hand on hers. “I do not consider you a stranger, Nora.”

His touch was gentle, his skin warm and dry, but it was too new to be entirely reassuring. She may have been wearing his coat, staying in his castle, and even wearing his ring. Yet, she could not say the same thing about him.

Either way, she had committed to helping him. Her mind set to work, thinking about all the household troubles she had settled over the years in West Riding.

“Let’s start with the servants, Your Grace. I’ve seen the damage a dissatisfied servant can do. First, there’s the inefficiency of half-hearted work, then the poison of rumors that turn others against you. Combine that with lowered wages, and I’d say the risk for thievery rises.”

“Lowered wages? Among my staff?” He leaned forward. “Have you discovered something already?”

Without mentioning Janie, Nora did her best to explain her reasoning. “With so many recent changes, you must examine whether your servants are being paid fairly. How are they treated?”

His brows knit together. “I’ve always assumed all was well with such matters, but you’re right. I need to look into this. I should be more informed about such things.”

“You should do more than be informed.”

Nora thought of a time when she was twelve when influenza had swept through their household.

Most of the staff had contracted the illness along with Nora, confining more than half of those who lived and worked with the Lacys to their beds.

Nora’s father had arranged for the doctor and apothecary to treat everyone while her mother and housekeeper and anyone else well enough to help had seen to everyone’s care.

When the sickness had passed, leaving a great deal of work to make up, Nora remembered overhearing a conversation between her parents.

Her father was worried about the work and money they had lost and proposed a more strenuous schedule with added responsibilities.

Her mother, however, had been absolutely against such a solution.

She had proposed they celebrate everyone’s recovery.

Their spirits needed lifting, she insisted, while they regained their strength.

In the end, she prevailed in her opinions.

A week later, their house filled with music, dancing, cakes, drinks, and laughter.

Though Nora was young, she remembered her elation at being allowed to join in the festivities.

The love and loyalty that grew among their household after that was unparalleled, and work resumed more efficiently than before. When Nora was old enough to run the household, she realized it was one of the best things her parents could have done.

If Aaron’s household had undergone similar burdens while the late duke was sick, Nora could easily imagine that their spirits might need some lifting too.

“Your Grace, I think you should hold a ball.”

He put down his teacup and looked curiously at her. “A ball? Well, yes. I suppose we will at some point to honor you.”

“Not for me. I think you should hold one entirely for the servants.”

“For the servants? Why would they need a ball?”

“It isn’t that strange a notion. Only consider it.

What better way to thank the army of people who help you day in and day out?

Why, even the most honest of them are bound to become weary and disgruntled from time to time, especially if they feel their efforts are going unnoticed.

Give them a holiday. Show them you appreciate them. ”

His lips turned to a pensive frown. “It sounds like a great deal of trouble and expense for little help in discovering the thieves.”

“Perhaps, but it may help those who are not thieves develop some loyalty to you. That is where its true usefulness lies.” She emphasized her point by sharing with him the experience among her own household in West Riding.

He pressed his lips together, his brows growing thoughtful. “I’ll consider it, Nora, but I’m not sure it’s the best course of action right now.”

“Then what is, Your Grace? What do you suggest?”

The corner of his lip rose slightly, his green eyes assuming their startling intensity. He stood and offered his arm. “That you do not leave my side today.”

Nora swallowed as she took his arm. “If you insist.”