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He placed the pot on the stove then turned to stoke the fire within. Jane looked back at the silver teapot she had noticed earlier. “Would you like me to polish it? It would be perfect for our tea.”
He nodded, distracted by the fire. “And see if you can find some cups. There is so much that has been left behind that it shouldn’t be a problem.”
Jane nodded, grabbing the teapot, then looked in the cupboard again. Eventually, she found two dusty mugs at the back of one. She found a rag and set about cleaning them while Percy stoked the fire.
There was a sharp clap of thunder. Jane jumped, almost dropping the mug in her hand. She ran back to the window. The sky had turned almost black, filled with angry clouds scudding across it at a rapid pace. The storm was gathering so quickly that she gasped.
“It is just as well you did not start to walk in this,” said Percy, coming to stand behind her, peering out the window as well. “It looks like it will be a bad storm.”
Jane’s heart flipped. “It is just as well you sent those workmen away too,” she said in a strained voice, disconcerted by his proximity.
“It is,” he said in a soft voice. She felt the warmth of his breath against her neck.
She turned around slowly, gazing up at him. His eyes were so dark they were almost impenetrable. She couldn’t read their expression at all. She realised that the light in the kitchen had dimmed along with the weather.
He coughed into his hand. “The water is boiling. Is the pot ready?”
She jumped. “Yes, it is.”
She scurried away, giving the pot and the mugs one last polish. They weren’t perfect, but they would do the job. He carefully ladled the black tea leaves into the pot before pouring the boiling water into it, clamping the lid shut.
“Now we wait,” he said, grinning at her, “for the tea to brew.”
She sat back down near the wood stove. The fire within was crackling fiercely now, emanating so much heat that it was almost too hot. Jane felt a wave of contented weariness wash over her. It was oddly pleasant in the kitchen, near the hot stove, in this beautiful, deserted house while a storm raged around them. She could almost believe they were only the two people in the world.
She turned, watching him carefully pour the tea into the mugs. He gave one to her. She took a sip gingerly. It was good and strong.
“I feel I do not need milk and sugar at all,” she said in surprise, taking another sip. “You have done a good job.”
He grinned, looking pleased by her praise and maybe a little embarrassed. “Perhaps I could get a job in the tearooms in town if I lose my fortune and my title is stripped from me. It is good to know I have other talents if necessary.”
Jane burst out laughing. After a moment, he joined in. It felt good to laugh, too. She felt like the tension was slowly draining away. They drank their tea in companionable silence. There was another loud clap of thunder, and then she heard rain pelting down.
Suddenly, she felt tears burning behind her eyes. She recalled what Marianne had said about her relationship with Henry—about how it was the myriad little things which she missed about her husband. For the first time, she saw how a good relationship could be a thing of comfort and joy.
She was enjoying sitting here with the Earl in this companionable way.She didn’t want to leave, she thought in amazement. Perhaps what he kept saying about how well suited they were was true. Perhaps they could have a good life together if she could give up the notion that she must never marry.
But then she sighed, realising that even if she did relinquish her vow, it would never work. They might be well matched and make good life companions, but he could never love her. He wanted a marriage of convenience. He had said so many times.
She knew he desired her. But how long would that last if there was no love to bind it? Probably not long. He would grow tired of her in that way, and then he would seek other women for it. How could she bear it?
Jane knew she couldn’t. It would be her parent’s marriage all over again.
No, she had made the right decision, even if her heart ached. This was just a brief respite from the world outside. It wasn’t real. When the storm was over, she would leave. And he would turn his attention to a more willing lady to finally find the countess he desired.
And now, she started to grow restless again. She wanted the storm to stop. She needed to get away from him.
“Jane, what is it?” he asked. “Why have you put down your tea?”
She felt a fluttering in her heart. She turned to him.
“Why is it that you cannot love, Percy?”
Chapter 29
Percy stared at her steadily. He had watched her growing more agitated by the minute. It was a shame because he had been enjoying sitting with her in silence, drinking their tea as the storm raged outside.It had given him a glimpse of what life with her might be like,he thought wistfully.
And now, she had asked him why he could not love. His first impulse was to angrily brush aside the question, to deflect her, the way he always did. But perhaps he had grown tired of it. He felt the walls he had built around him starting to dissolve, like the raindrops splattering against the windows. Suddenly, he wanted to be honest with her.
