The food arrived then, and the boys dug in as if they hadn’t had a meal in weeks. Considering that Heathbrook’s cook had served them a very capacious dinner last night, he wasn’t sure how that could be. But he certainly enjoyed his own food.
Not to mention the ale. He took a long sip of it and let out a sound of pure pleasure. “I will never tire of having good English ale. The French don’t make ale, and every time I have it, I’m reminded of how much I prefer it to wine.”
“Then you are definitely English, my lord,” Giselle said. “I cannot imagine preferring ale to wine.”
“I will have to convert you,” he said. “I will make that my first act as a married man.” When she cast him a sharp glance, he winked at her.
With a sniff, she returned to eating her salad. After she had satisfied her appetite a little, however, she began questioning the boys again. “You said Mr. Yates didn’t have a good cook?”
“Not really,” Kit said between bites of partridge. “Our cousin liked tasteless joints of meat, brown bread, and boiled potatoes, mostly.”
“And pickles,” Evan said. “For some reason, Cousin Yates is very fond of pickles.”
“I like a good pickle myself,” Heathbrook said.
“With breakfast?” Kit said. “He liked them at every meal. Pickles and eggs donotgo together.”
“I should say not,” Heathbrook remarked.
The apple cake came, and Zack’s eyes widened. “And he wouldn’t give us sweets. He said too much sugar was bad for you.”
“He is not entirely wrong,” Giselle said. “Or so I have heard.”
Heathbrook and all three boys looked at her in shock. She blinked. “Fruit is good for you but not cakes and such.”
“What about cake with fruit in it?” Zack asked. “Like apple cake?”
“I could be misinformed,” she said, as if realizing that her companions were decidedly not of her opinion.
“Misinformed or no,” Heathbrook said, “a man needs something sweet once in a while.” Like a taste of honey. Or honeyed lips. Likehers.
He groaned.
“Of course, an exception can be made for birthday cake,” Giselle said with a smile for him, thankfully unaware of the direction of his thoughts. “As for your cousin Yates, perhaps he did not provide sweets because sugar is so dear. Was he tightfisted like that?”
“Hardly.” Evan happily cut off a generous slice of apple cake. “He spent a good bit of money on our clothes. We went to an excellent tailor. I never dressed as well at Longmead, I can tell you that.”
“And he did buy tea of good quality,” Kit said.
“And fresh fruit,” Zack said. “There was always plenty of fruit. I like fruit.”
“Of course you do, Mr. Sweet Tooth,” Evan said, but mildly, like an amiable older brother should.
“Fresh fruit can be quite dear, especially in the winter,” Giselle said, casting Heathbrook a look. “That was very good of Mr. Yates.”
At first, Heathbrook couldn’t figure out what she was trying to tell him. Then it dawned on him. She was questioning his brothers about Yates’s finances and whether he had skimped on things despite the boys having more than enough money in property to allow big expenditures. She was doing it rather obliquely, but so unobtrusively that the boys couldn’t even tell. Hell, he practically couldn’t tell, himself.
How clever of her. Was she doing it for him? To helphimwith his investigation?Because she hadn’t needed to do such a thing, although he was grateful for the help. It was clever and sweet and beyond the pale. And not at all what he’d expected of her.
He tried to convey with his expression that it was very much appreciated, but of course that was hard with three curious boys and a curious mother watching their every move. He would have to take her aside later and thank her.
Her mother whispered something in her ear, and she rose from her chair, then helped her mother to stand. Meanwhile, Heathbrook stood, too, as did all of the boys. At least Mother had raised them to be gentlemen.
“If you would excuse us,” Giselle said, “Maman needs the necessary.”
“I can show you where it is,” Zack piped up, hurrying around the table to Giselle and her mother.
“That would be very kind of you,” Giselle said. “Thank you, Zack.”