What did she wish? Sometimes when she looked at him like this, when she said only partial sentences, he almost believed she longed for something between them, too. Fanciful thoughts!
“At least I secured another bite differently than I did last year,” she said.
And the year before that, and the year before that. How anyone came up with the idea to steal a bite of pudding, he didn’t know.
“I swear sometimes you encourage it,” she said. “I used to believe you did it to annoy your father like I do mine, but you’re the steward now.”
Was this Christmas different enough to tell her the true reason? “Maybe I like it.”
A soft hitch to her breath, a brightness to her eyes, and he was glad he told her part of the truth. He admired her resourcefulness, that was true, but he encouraged her mischief because it brought her joy.
Smiling truly, now, she said, “Well, here’s to another year!”
Drystan widened his stance, which would prevent the servants from viewing Elizabeth. Eyes bright, her soft lips parted, she lifted the lone bite to her lips. He glanced around the room, but the staff either avoided looking in their direction or were indeed that busy.
Or perhaps they knew better than to look at their mistress’s mischief and the steward’s glowering glare.
And, indeed, he did glower. This bite, this moment was theirs, had always been theirs. When he’d gone from a child to a man, there were awkward moments between them. When the effect of her taking that one bite was too much for his unwieldy body that he had to look away, he regretted those lost years.
Now the effect to his body was as immediate as ever, but he kept his eyes on her. He took what he could from their time together, knowing even this shouldn’t be possible. A steward would never be friends with anyone in the household. Except Elizabeth, who liked pudding and mischief, and he liked watching her and, in turn, righting the world again.
When she was by his side…the world was indeed right again.
