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His stomach rumbled. Holding onto the bed post for support, he stared at the bedroom door. He could make it down to the kitchen on his own, surely. He was tired, but he could walk.
Nick reached for his dressing gown at the end of the bed and threw it over his good shoulder, letting it drape over his injured side. He made it through the door, snatched a candle on his way out, and trudged down the hall, steeling himself for the stairs. He was surprised by how quickly he felt fatigued. It made him want to hit something, but that would be counterproductive. It was hard to accomplish any level of exercise when one was doing one’s best to appear an invalid.
Instead, he continued to balance a candle in one hand and leaned on the railing with his good arm. He followed the stairs down to the small door hidden in an alcove off of the foyer that he knew would take him into the kitchen.
Easing the door open, a faint glow came from downstairs, giving him pause. Was it early enough for the servants to begin breakfast preparations?
Nick sighed in relief. What a blessing. Now he could eat a real meal.
The bustling noise of servants at work was absent, however, as he descended the servants’ stairs. Eerie quiet met him instead, and his reservations grew as he got closer to the kitchen.
When he reached the floor, he stopped short. Giulia sat at the wooden work table in the center of the room, her mouth full and half of a lemon tart suspended in her hand. Her wide-eyed innocence pierced his heart. And, my, was she beautiful. Her hair, out of its usual confines, trailed over her shoulder in a loose braid; he could see why she always secured it the way she did, for her hair was a wild mass of frizz.
“Fancy meeting you here,” Nick muttered, affecting a weakened gait as he crossed to the table and leaned against the back of a chair as though he could not stand without its support.
Giulia glanced away sheepishly and resumed chewing her pilfered sweet. She set down the other half of her tart and wiped her hands on a rag. When she turned her gaze back on him it was full of censure. “What are you thinking, Nick? It is not a good idea for you to be up and traipsing about by yourself in the middle of the night.”
“And it is safe for you?”
She shot him a look that told him exactly what she thought about that.
He raised his hand in surrender and then gestured to the chair beside her.
Giulia stood to pull the chair out for him, but he didn’t miss her huff of exasperation. She moved to the teapot and began stoking the small fire she must have laid. “Tea should only take a few minutes,” she called over her shoulder as she set the water to boil. Raising an eyebrow, she continued, “That is what you have risked your life for, is it not?”
Nick chuckled. “My, aren’t we into theatrics in the middle of the night?”
Giulia reclaimed her chair beside Nick’s and continued nibbling her lemon tart. His mouth watered as he eyed the treat. “There aren’t any more of those around, are there?”
Giulia smiled. “Perhaps.”
They stared at one another for a moment, Giulia eyeing Nick with a gleam of mischief in her eyes.
“And may I have one?” he asked.
“That depends,” she said matter-of-factly. “It is mine; if I share it with you, what will I get in return?”
His pulse began to race. What could he give her, indeed? His blood heated and his hands itched to move toward her. To pick up her hand, to pull her into his arms. Well, arm. To taste the tang of lemon on her lips.
She seemed to notice the shift in the atmosphere and her eyes darted to his mouth. Once, not too long ago, that was the only sign he would have needed to pounce. Now, he could not bring himself to close the distance. Not like this. No, it was too risky. She wanted him to, that much was apparent. But she needed to know that she wanted to kiss him. He felt the familiar stealth of a hunter, carefully sizing up his prey. Yet, it was different this time. She was different.
Giulia cleared her throat loudly and shot to her feet. She returned with another tart and placed it in front of Nick before scooting her chair a little farther away and sitting again.
He bit into the tart and savored the sour flavor on his tongue. “This was yours, you say?”
“Yes, but it must be our little secret. I was quite hungry when I first arrived at Halstead and took to coming down here in the night for something to eat. I was caught a few times, so now Cook leaves these for me and no one knows about them except us. When I empty the plate, she simply replenishes them.” She shrugged. “That was my last one, so enjoy it.”
“Trust me, I am.”
Giulia glanced around the dim kitchen as if searching for something to do. She must have found it because she shot to her feet again. Ah, the tea. He watched as she prepared a cup for him and refilled her own. She returned to the table and set his cup on the surface before turning to nurse her own beverage.
“I did not see you tonight.”
Giulia smiled guiltily. “You must have heard why. I am sure it is all around the castle by now.”
“You mean how you yelled at the earl until you were blue in the face?”
The blood drained from her face, her words escaping as hardly more than a whisper. “That is what is being said?”
