“And what else have your lending library friends taught you?” he asked, his brows lifting in interest.
She launched into another ditty that was funnier than it was crude. He laughed along with Miss Rees at that one. He still watched them both as they made their way down the second set of stairs to the kitchen, but now he saw that they weren’t exactly inebriated. He’d call it being in jolly good spirits. And so he settled in to enjoy their company.
“I’ll get another bottle of wine,” he said.
“I’ll put together a plate for you,” said Miss Rees.
“I’ll entertain you with another song,” said Clara.
Before long they were all seated around the kitchen table and chatting in the most relaxing way. When asked, he spoke about the day’s frustrations and felt the strain melt away from their attention. Clara’s day had been filled with the discovery that the registry office she’d been using to hire servants was abominable in its treatment of its clients. They demanded the servant’s first month’s wages in return for the placement. And that was in addition to the funds they required from the employer.
What he learned about Miss Rees was that she was an excellent conversationalist. She listened closely, was always ready with a witty comment or a sympathetic agreement, and she never, ever spoke about herself. It was frustrating, really, because he wanted to know her better. But when he asked about her day, she deflected it to speak about having a wonderful time with Clara.
He chose instead to watch her body and enjoy her gestures. There was a natural beauty in any person’s smile, but he saw sweetness in hers. Her laugh was filled with joy the few times it burst out of her, but she quickly moderated it. And she was prone to ducking her head when mirth overcame her as if she were hiding her happiness. Even her gestures were modest, and he wondered what it would be like to see her fully express herself in body and voice.
She was reserved to a degree that saddened him. Compared to the overly wild gestures of his sister, she appeared to have a cloak of restraint around her that even her jolly good mood could not pierce.
Time ticked away and he found himself more and more fascinated by Miss Rees. By the time the second bottle of wine was finished, Clara declared herself too exhausted to continue. She embraced first him then Miss Rees with a happy exuberance, then wobbled her way to bed. That left him and Miss Rees alone.
“This has been a lovely evening, my lord. I shall—”
“You are not walking alone back to your home,” he stated firmly.
She opened her mouth to argue, but one look at his face and she dipped her chin. “Thank you, my lord.”
“But first, I should like to hear something about you.”
“What?”
“I remember the bold, forthright woman from the masquerade a year ago, the woman who asked me to consider marrying her and I cannot see her in you tonight.” He leaned forward. “Who is the true Miss Rees? The shy, self-effacing woman today or the bold one from a year ago?”
Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth as if preparing to speak, but no sound came out. In the end, she pressed her lips together and shrugged. He found that completely dissatisfying.
“Shall I make a guess?” He waited until she nodded then continued. “Something happened today, something to diminish your fire. I should like to find out what that was and beat it into a pulp.”
“My lord, I have not laughed so well as I did this evening in a very long time. It was wonderful.”
“What happened this day then?”
She bit her lip. “Your sister and I interviewed new cooks. I very much enjoyed helping her find the right one for you.” She pointed at his empty plate. “The food was good, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, it was, but you cannot distract me. What happened this morning?” And when she did not immediately answer, he covered her hand with his. “You may confide in me. I will not betray you.” He had no idea why he was being so bold. If a lady wished to keep her secrets, he had no business pressing her to divulge them. But he wanted to know. He wanted to kill whatever dragon had plagued her.
She blew out a breath and flipped her hand such that they were palm to palm. It was a bold gesture for a woman not attached to him, and he relished the feel of her small hand in his. Her grip was strong though, as she squeezed, and he returned it in full measure—strength for strength—until she took a shuddering breath.
“I realized today that my mother has decided on my future. It is not a bad one, my lord, and she is most generous. But I don’t want it, and yet I fear the other options.” She released a soft laugh. “So I ran to see your sister today, I took joy in helping her, and then spent the evening laughing about silly things. But tomorrow will come and I will be faced with the same choice as I have been every morning.”
“And what is that?”
“Do I do what is familiar or throw it all away on something new?”
His brows rose. “What new thing would you do?”
She laughed. “That is the worst of it. I don’t know. I have an idea, but it’s just a whisper of a thought. One that your sister gave me.”
He had a horrible thought about séances or ghost hunts. His sister had a notorious love of the supernatural, but she also read about practical things. Sometimes. “I am breathless with anticipation.”
She chuckled. “She said I had so many good ideas about how to hire a good cook that I ought to open a registry office of my own. One that included teaching women how to pick good servants and that taught servants how to perform excellently at their jobs.”