She smiled. “Just you being here is enough,” she responded. “I tire of having breakfast by myself every morning.”
Fredrick returned her smile. “I am glad that I am here then. I was afraid that I would arrive too early.”
“I wake up at an early hour. I’m afraid it is a habit that started when I was young and I had to collect the eggs from the chickens.”
“You and I have led such different lives,” Fredrick acknowledged.
“We have,” she agreed. Perhaps she had been too honest with him.
Fredrick leaned to the side as a footman placed a cup of tea in front of him. “What other chores did you have when you were young?”
“Too many to count,” she said with a laugh. “I always seemed to be busy with one task or another.”
“Did you not have time to sketch?”
Emilia bobbed her head. “During quiet times, I used to go outside on our porch and sketch whatever I saw, be it people or animals. It didn’t matter to me. I just wanted to capture the moment,” she shared. “When I showed my mother the sketches, she always praised them and displayed them on our walls. My mother was my greatest supporter.”
Overwhelmed with emotion, she fought back the tears welling up in her eyes, not wanting to cry in front of Fredrick. What would he think of her?
Fredrick placed his hand gently on her sleeve. “It is all right to cry,” he reassured her. “Heaven knows that I have shed a tear or two for my mother.”
“You cry?” she asked. “I’m afraid I do not see it.”
He chuckled softly. “I do not do it often, mind you, but there is a time and a place for it. Crying over one’s mother is the perfect excuse to do so.”
Emilia used her hand to brush away her tears. “I’m sorry. My mother died many years ago but sometimes it still feels like yesterday.”
“You do not need to apologize,” he assured her, reaching into his jacket pocket to retrieve a handkerchief, which he then extended towards her.
With a grateful heart, she accepted the handkerchief and murmured, “Thank you.”
Fredrick dropped his hand and reached for his teacup. “Will you tell me more about yourself?”
“That is rather a vague question,” she teased. “What would you wish to know?”
“What are your likes, or dislikes?”
Emilia gestured towards the cup of chocolate on the table. “I find that I love drinking chocolate. That is an extravagance I never had before I moved here. Chocolate was far too expensive for us to afford.”
“Octavia loves chocolate as well,” Fredrick remarked. “I find that I am not tempted by it.”
“Are you close with your sister?”
Fredrick’s eyes grew reflective. “I adore my sister, but she is quite the hoyden.”
“I hope to meet her one day.”
“You shall, at least once she returns home from her wedding tour,” Fredrick said. “She married a fine man, and I played a part in bringing them together.”
Emilia’s lips curved. “You are a matchmaker, as well. Is there no end to your talents, my lord?” she asked.
“I must admit I have my flaws. Arithmetic is not my strong suit, but do not tell my father,” he joked. “I have managed to maintain the illusion this long.”
“Do you not handle your accounts?”
Fredrick’s eyes lit up with mirth. “I am more than capable of keeping a ledger balanced.”
“Perhaps you can help me, then?” she inquired. “Not only am I expected to run a household, but I must understand the particulars of running an estate.”