Theresa Romain: Season for Temptation

James gave a bark of laughter.

“But they are working on making your food, I swear it,” Julia said in a soothing voice.

She then flung herself down into a chair, and James followed her lead in a more sedate manner. “Honestly,” she added, “please don’t take this the wrong way, but haven’t you run a house before? Don’t you know how servants act?”

“Honestly,” he echoed her, “no, I haven’t ever run a house. Nicholls, my own country estate, is a recent inheritance, but I’ve never lived there. All I’ve ever had since attaining my majority are my bachelor lodgings in town. And a single valet.”

“Oh, I beg your pardon.”

“No, that’s quite all right. I ought to learn these things or my wife and servants will think I’m a fool. Which is much worse than merely having one’s future sister think one a fool.” As her mouth opened in protest, he raised a hand to quiet her. “It’s only fair. I am, at least in this respect. Repeat that at a ton party, though, and I’ll have your hide.”

She covered her mouth quickly, but a giggle crept between her fingers.

The gnawing in his stomach lessened at the sound of her laugh. She distracted him, and he felt the urge to talk on, to prolong their conversation again.

He explained further. “You see, I never came to the country as a child, and I never visited my own estate until I inherited it. For both of my parents, there was simply nothing outside London. And since my father passed on, my mother has continued to live in Matheson House in town and run it to her own liking. So I now find myself in the position of having a title and no idea what to do with it.”

“You have a secretary, don’t you? And a steward?”

“Yes, and they’re damned capable — if you’ll excuse my language.”

“Absolutely,” she replied promptly. “Anytime. Say whatever you like.”

“In fact, they’re so good that they don’t have a bit of need for me. But they live in London, and they focus on our holdings there. I intend to create a real home for myself in Nicholls.”

A sudden worry struck him. “Does Louisa know how to manage a household?” Good Lord, he hoped so. An ignorant viscount was bad enough, but if his future wife was savvy, they would manage.

Julia looked doubtful, but she was nodding. “I expect most young ladies learn such things from their mamas or their housekeepers. We are well supplied with servants here, but we haven’t had a housekeeper since the butler’s wife died last year. It would just kill poor Manderly to see someone else in his wife’s place — er, so to speak. And anyway, between Mama and me, and of course Louisa, too, we basically handle those duties.”

James eyed her askance, this small, hopeful-looking blond person sitting so pertly in a chair across from him. The more he learned about this household, the more unusual it seemed. “How many jobs do you do? Governess and housekeeper?”

Julia looked surprised at his question. “I never thought about it like that. This is my home, and I do what needs to be done. Everyone’s happier knowing they can trust the children to be cared for and the servants to be content, so why have someone else do it?”

“What will they all do when you get married?”

The question slipped out before he thought better of it. Julia looked even more startled, and James wished he could have called the words back. He knew — he knew —that was a very personal question to be asking a girl he had only met the day before. And it was doubly improper to think of her married, or in anything but the most familial of ways. An image of the marriage bed quickly flitted through his head, and he racked his brain to think of a way to change the subject gracefully.

Luckily, a welcome tray of food was brought into the breakfast parlor just then.

And then another.

And then the most perfect rack of toast he’d ever seen.

As Julia dismissed the footmen, James wondered aloud, “How many people are having breakfast with me?”

“It’s all for you. We just wanted you to have a choice, since we didn’t know what you usually breakfasted on.”

He approached the laden sideboard and opened the first covered dish hopefully, and a heavenly smell of steak and kidneys wafted up. Under the second cover were ham and eggs. And that toast — his mouth positively watered at the sight.

“This all looks and smells wonderful,” he said as he began to assemble a plate. “Thank you very much. I’m sorry to have put you and your servants to so much trouble for just one person.”

“So. . it’s a lot of food? You might not want it all?”

Out of the corner of his eye, James saw Julia’s taut pose. Her gaze was trained blankly on the wall and her fingers twisted in her lap. “You want something to eat again, don’t you?” He carefully kept his face solemn as he turned to face her.

She looked up at him, an expression of guilt on her face. “I might have over-ordered just a bit. But if you’re absolutely certain you won’t want everything. . well, the ham smells so good, and I can hardly believe it, but I’m hungry again already.”

James laughed. “Serve away. Have as much as you like. Far be it from me to starve a lady in her own home.”

The hungry pair ate in companionable silence for a few minutes. James crunched through the thin-sliced ham and crisp toast until his empty stomach began to feel pleasantly full, and his mind returned to the three objectives he’d had for the day.

First, find some breakfast. Done.

Second, find Louisa and set a wedding date. The sooner, the better.

Third, find Lord Oliver and get his approval for the wedding date and marriage settlements.

He felt a bit queasy all of a sudden. He wondered if he’d eaten too quickly.

Still in silence, he sipped at a cup of coffee until he felt more settled. He took a deep breath.

“Where is Louisa this morning?”

“Hmm?” Julia looked up from intently slathering an ungodly amount of butter on a piece of toast. “Oh, I expect she’s in the library. Or maybe up with the children, if Mama’s not up there. Or maybe they are all visiting the new calf. It’s sure to be one of those.” She dimpled at him. “You see, I do not do everything by any means. Or know everything about this house.”

James nodded his acceptance, not quite able to respond to her smile. “Would you show me the way to Louisa, once you are done eating? I haven’t quite gotten my bearings in the house yet.”

Julia stood up so quickly that James heard the thump of her knees banging against the underside of the table. She winced, but replied, “Yes, sorry, let’s go. I didn’t mean to eat so much and keep you waiting.”

“No need for injury,” James assured her, the urge to laugh returning again. “Please finish your toast. In fact, try these preserves as well — they are delicious.”

That was all the persuasion Julia required to sit back down and resume her meal. “Mmm,” she agreed. “You’re right, the cook’s got a knack with blueberries.”

James looked down at his own plate again, but the food didn’t appeal to him anymore. It had been delicious, and he had been very hungry. But now, his insides roiled, and he wasn’t sure why.

So, with no food to occupy him, he watched Julia.

She didn’t notice his gaze, so single-mindedly was she eating. Her light hair was pulling out of its pins, and with curls around her face, she looked very young and untroubled. Now that he knew the breadth of her responsibility in the household, he could hardly believe that she appeared so carefree, or that she and Louisa were virtually the same age.

As he watched, he felt that warmth tickle through his body as it had the day before. She really was lovely, despite her untidy hair — or maybe even, really, because of it. And she was so unexpected .