Their fingers brushed against each other, and each jerked away from each other, eliciting the others’ laughter.
“Goodness, you would think your hands were made of nettles.”
“Perhaps wasps would be more apt, given the buzzing between the two of them.”
“Are you both going to stand there and be ridiculous, or are we going to play cards?”
“No need to get your knickers in a twist, Rochester. Oh, sorry, darling, I did not mean to speak so brazenly.” Richard kissed Cressida on the forehead apologetically.
“That is quite all right.” Cressida briefly squeezed Richard’s hand, and Blake began to deal the cards.
A few hours later, Blake had tasked Jane with convincing the cook to give her pudding early. The woman was renowned for refusing to give young ladies desserts lest it spoil their figure.
Jane had been gone some time, and Blake decided that it would be best to find her.
After all, she may need consoling after her abject failure.
He made his way towards the kitchens, not paying attention to where he was going. He collided with something soft, and the scent of cinnamon and vanilla told him exactly who it was.
His entire body tightened, but he shook it off.
“There you are. You were gone for so long that I was starting to suspect you might have gotten lost.” Blake took a step back as his hand brushed against her outstretched arms. “I take it your mission was a failure?”
“Oh, ye of little faith. It was a success.” Jane grinned with a glance downward.
Odd.
“And where is the proof of your success?”
“I would suggest you look down, dear Duke, for you are wearing it.” Jane gestured to Blake’s midriff.
He glanced down. Sure enough, two portions of trifle were smeared across his shirt.
Well, that is going to leave a stain.
“You got two? How on earth did you manage that?”
Is there anything this woman cannot do?
He could not help but admire her.
“You are not the only charming person here, you know.” Jane watched, amusement on her face, as Blake dabbed at the pudding with a handkerchief.
“You think I am charming?”
“I don’t recall saying so, you must be mistaken,” she quickly corrected.
Blake shook his head and continued to carefully wipe his shirt. “It is a good thing you collided with me cream-side first—it will not stain half so bad as jelly.”
“I do not think I have ever met a man who cared whether something would stain his clothes.” Jane cocked her head.
“I know what a pain it is to get stains like this out of your garments,” Blake replied absently as he surveyed his midriff. “My father once made me wash every soiled item of clothing he could find and forbade any of the servants to help me.”
Deciding that it was as clean as he would be able to get it without proper equipment, Blake turned and began to walk towards the drawing room. Jane fell into step with him.
“Why did he do that?” she asked.
“I fell from my horse and ruined a pair of trousers. He felt that seeing the consequences of my actions might cure me of my carelessness.” Blake tried to keep his voice level and light as he rubbed his upper arm absently.
