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She felt an absurd rush of pleasure. “I daresay I would not mind knowing them, but you can be assured I would never repeat what you tell me.”
After a long, silent moment, he said, “My grandfather was a local physician. He was married to my grandmother happily and had three children, living in this cottage when he learned he had inherited the marquessate. He never gave up this home, though he inherited such wealth and vast estates from a distant cousin. I was a lad when my grandfather brought me here. He showed me what it is like to live a simple life, to value and appreciate it. I have come here often over the years whenever I wish to escape the tedium or hassle of town life or my estate. I was on my way here when I saw you riding.”
It was quite baffling, but suddenly the marquess no longer seemed cold and aloof. Pippa looked around, seeing the cottage through this fresh detail. Suddenly she saw a family at the center by the fire, laughing and filled with love. “It is a beautiful cottage,” she said with a smile. “Is it your grandfather’s knowledge how you know how to treat my ankle?”
William smiled, and its masculine beauty sent a low tremor in her belly.
“Yes. My grandfather also taught me to forage for myself. He taught me how to hunt and, to my mother’s distress, how to cook.”
Pippa felt quite delighted with the marquess at the moment. While the storm continued to rage on outside, it was warm and comfy in his little cottage. Another crack of lightning was followed by a deep rumble of thunder as the storm was very close to the cottage. The rain thundering down on the roof and gardens sounded more like pebbles than drops of rain. And a wind was building up and screaming eerily as it shook the trees and bushes around the house. The house did not shake, but the windows rattled, and she was happy that she was not alone in the cottage in the storm.
As she observed the marquess cooking with such easy grace and skill, Pippa discerned he was not a man given to verbosity. She did not mind, somehow enjoying simply watching him. After setting the pot on the stove with water and the potatoes and carrots he’d chopped, he went into a small room beside the bedroom. She tried to crane her neck to see what was in that space, but he closed the door before she could see anything.
When he returned only a few moments later, he had two cushions in his grip and thin strips of linen. William stooped before her and gently bandaged her foot.
“Thank you,” Pippa murmured, his tender care filling her belly with that peculiar warmth.
Her stomach rumbled again, and he peered up at her with a smile.
“The stew will soon be ready.”
“What kind of stew,” she tried to ask without sounding too greedy.
“Rabbit.”
She glanced around and arched a brow. “Where is the rabbit to come from, my lord.”
His low chuckle washed over her skin.
“There is a meat safe attached to the kitchen. A ventilated cupboard that my local man filled with mutton, bacon, beef, rabbit, and even a duck for me because I gave him notice of my arrival. Although I suspect the rabbit is poached from the duke’s lands. He won’t mind and allows me to shoot on his land. I’d planned to stay for at least a week.”
“Have mercy,” she said with a laugh when her stomach once again grumbled its hunger. “Your stew smells delicious, and I think I’d prefer it over most of the fancy dishes my father’s supposedly French chef makes at home. I think he is a fraud because his French is dreadful. I am imagining all the savory dishes you could make with those, and I truly might start salivating on you, my lord.”
Pippa squeaked when he lifted her into his arms and took her into the room she had been curious about. She gasped, staring about in wonderment. Though the room was small, it was tastefully furnished with a small sofa, a single armchair by the fire, and one wall had a built-in bookshelf filled with dozens of books.
“I enjoy reading,” he said gruffly. “This room was my father and aunts’ bedroom as children. I redid it as a library of a sort when I inherited the cottage.”
“It is lovely,” she breathed.
He lowered her onto the sofa and propped the cushions underneath her ankle.
“What do you enjoy reading? I will see what I have according to your taste.”
“I like gothic horrors and mysteries and romance.”
“I might have one or two titles.”
“Truly?”
That charming smile once again touched his mouth. “Truly. I’ve brought my sisters here in the past, and the eldest, Elizabeth, shares your reading taste.”
“Never say you’ve not yet sunk your reading teeth in a perfectly horrid gothic novel!”
William plucked a title from the shelves and handed it to her.
“Elizabeth swears it is a divine read,” he said drily. “It should entertain you while I cook…and then head out.”
Pippa snapped her gaze to his, her heart lurching. “Head out? In this ghastly weather?”
