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Chapter Fourteen
Bertram sat down to breakfast, savoring the heady aroma of fresh bread. He smiled, his heart soaring with gladness that Letty was back among them. Whatever the reason, his stomach was grateful. He looked up and smiled as a servant brought in a platter of freshly baked bread, jam, and butter.
The servant smiled as he set eyes on the Duke. “Good morning, Your Grace.”
“Good morning, Julius.” Bertram smiled. “What do you have for me today?”
Julius put down the platter with flourish. “Bread, mutton pies, jam, butter and a savory concoction of Miss Strange’s made of peanuts, Your Grace. We watched as she made it.” He caught the Duke’s eye with a significant nod as if to let him know that the food was safe. “Cook and I have tasted it.”
Bertram’s mouth twisted as he looked away. His staff volunteering as food tasters to save him from Letty was bittersweet. He looked up.
“Would you send Miss Strange to me? I would like to know more about this concoction.” Julius presented it to him, a brown mass in a bowl which did undoubtedly smell of nuts.
Julius bowed and walked off smartly as Bertram stuck his finger in the mix and brought it to his mouth. His eyes widened with surprise at the taste.
“You can spread it on your bread if you like.”
He started, looking up to see Letty smiling at him. “Miss Strange, how quietly you move.”
“It is my duty to do so.” she smiled sardonically.
“Indeed.” Bertram suppressed his own smile. “Perhaps you can sit with me and show me how it is done?”
Her brow furrowed. “I do not know, Your Grace. Is that allowed?”
“I am lord of this manor. My word is law.” Bertram smiled as he inclined his head at her.
She nodded, reaching for the back of the nearest chair and pulling it away from the table. She fell into it, looking towards the Duke apprehensively. She reached for the plate of bread and a knife. Slitting the bread in two, she spread butter onto one side and the strange glop on the other.
She mashed them together, before putting it on a side plate and presenting it to him. He quirked an eyebrow as he picked it up and bit into it. Chewing thoughtfully, he kept his eyes on hers. “Is this some French delicacy?”
Letty laughed. “Actually, I learned of it on a trip to Spain.”
Bertram’s back stiffened with interest. “Spain? What was your mission there? To seduce the Spanish King, perhaps?”
Her laugh echoed in the large room like a scattering of glass when it breaks. “No, Your Grace. Nothing so lofty. Merely carrying messages.”
Bertram took another bite of his bread before cocking his head to the side. “Messages?”
She shook her head. “I did not agree to betray my people by being here.”
“Surely, whatever value those messages might have had, that time is long past by now.”
Her head swooped downward, eyes hidden from him. “It is not my place to determine that.”
He blinked at her, stymied by her stubbornness. “You are not like other women.”
She lifted her head, face solemn but her eyes were merry. “Do you mean that as a criticism or a compliment, Your Grace?”
He exhaled noisily. “I wish I knew.”
Her back straightened. “Shall I bring you some ale?” she asked.
“Coffee will do nicely.”
She got to her feet. “Right away, Your Grace.” She turned to go.
“Bring enough for yourself as well. I have many questions to ask.”
