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It had become important to her to put something of herself in the duchess’s bedchamber. She had wanted something permanent, some reminder of herself that Anne could look at long after all the work was done and she had moved on from the house.
After all, her work was the only thing that belonged here. Not her. She felt a little pang at the thought and pushed it aside.
Anne’s smiled warmed her heart. “I love it,” she said, then paused. “You have been working so late. Have you had dinner?”
She shook her head. “Mrs. MacInnes offered to send me up a plate, but I was busy with the workmen fixing the wainscoting to the walls. I wanted to finish up before leaving tonight.”
“Wait here.”
Anne reappeared some time later with a small basket, two wineglasses balanced on top.
Letty grinned. “To think that I have a duchess waiting on me. Not many can say the same.”
She was touched by her thoughtfulness. Was tonight to be the night, then? A week had passed since their ice skating rendezvous, and they had stolen no more than heated kisses, the air heavy with anticipation between them. She enjoyed their slow flirtation. She liked handling the duchess carefully, delicately, like the finest porcelain. She wanted to unwrap her like a delectable Christmas gift.
Letty took a clean cloth from the stack of supplies that she kept by the cans of paint and spread it over the worktable. She went to snuff the candle wicks, intending to replace them with fresh tapers, but Anne stayed her hand.
“The dim light is beautiful,” Anne said. “The servants never allow candles in my presence to burn more than a fourth of the way down before they whisk them away to the lesser used rooms, or to their own quarters.”
“Such a hardship,” Letty said dryly.
“Oh, hush. I know how good my life is, and I appreciate the servants’ thoughtfulness. I’m glad that they get the use of fine candles this way instead of using tallow in their rooms. But it is nice to be plain Anne in an unfinished room, with a makeshift table, and an informal meal.”
“Far be it for me to deny a woman her simple pleasures.” She brought one of the stools to the table and presented it to Anne with a flourish. “May I invite you to sit with me?”
“I would be delighted.”
They unpacked the hamper and spread its wares onto the table. Cold chicken cutlets, soft bread rolls, a selection of firm cheeses, and a bottle of merlot. Anne pulled out two slices of cake to finish the feast. One was a narrow cylinder of cake with a clever chocolate curl on top, and the other was a sponge with custard and fruit.
“If I had my way, I would start every meal with dessert,” Anne said, eying the cakes as Letty poured them each a glass of wine.
“There is no one to impress here,” she said. “Have you never done something against the grain?”
She considered for a moment. “Before this year? I daresay I haven’t.”
Letty thrust the plate with the cakes at her. “Then you should.”
Anne took the plate with a little laugh. “I can’t eat both of them!”
“Try some of each, at least.”
* * *
Anne took a sip of wine first. She was enjoying herself, perched on a stool that was a fraction too high and seated at a table a fraction too low, Letty’s pale face gleaming at her through the shadows, framed by snowflakes falling fast and thick out the window.
It wasromantic, she realized, in a way she could have never predicted. The room held the strong scent of paint, and there were hammers and nails and discarded wainscoting strips in the corner. This was no place fit for a duchess.
But maybe it was a place fit for a woman who wanted two slices of cake, who wanted to tumble with a lover tonight, who wanted to let her hair down and laugh and tease.
She took a forkful first of chocolate, sighing in pleasure as the cake disappeared on her tongue with its luxurious cream filling. She didn’t miss how Letty’s eyes seemed fixed on her lips. She darted her tongue out to catch a crumb and watched Letty’s throat move as she swallowed.
This was wonderful. She felt a power that had nothing to do with her title. She sipped her wine, then moved her fork to take a bite of the sponge cake. She closed her eyes to savor the sweet vanilla custard and hothouse berries, a true luxury in the middle of winter.
When she opened her eyes, Letty’s face was all she saw.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” she asked, her eyes intense.
Anne smiled. “Immensely. However, I do believe that I could be enjoying myself more.” The wine had made her bold, she told herself, but in truth it was Letty who intoxicated her.
