Page 89 of Immortal Rose

He took another step, passing into the little cocoon of candlelight with me. When he reached for the holder, I let him take it. Why the deuce did I feel so nervous looking up at him now? I knew how to handle the exasperating, sardonic Foxcourt, not this softer, shadowed version of himself.

“Does it happen often?” he asked, setting the candle down on Mrs. Silver’s worktable.

“Not as often as it used to,” I said. “I had more as a child. I suppose my nose has become somewhat accustomed to the city on its worst days.”

He nodded, absorbing this. “And I forced you out into it when Radcliffe could have met us here.”

The surprising note of remorse in his voice turned the hushed world hazy.

“Well . . .” I began, somewhat unevenly. “How would you have known?”

“I should have,” he said quietly. “I ought to have anticipated it.”

As he anticipated and took care of nearly everything else, I realized. This wasn’t merely a man who despised surprises. He saw them as personal failures. What a cruel way to punish yourself.

He was close enough now to reveal the outline of some hidden chain and pendant beneath his thin shirt. My own hand reached for Mama’s necklace before I remembered.

“Are you . . . hungry?” Foxcourt asked into the silence.

My stomach answered for me with a pitiful rumble. I flushed, and a small smile touched his lips.

“As the lady commands, then,” he said, looking relieved to finally have something tangible to do.

I watched, amused, as he hastily assembled a cold plate, moving with practiced adeptness around the kitchen to gather what he needed: a crumbly wedge of cheese, blueberries, and half a loaf of bread.

“How efficient of you,” I noted as he set the plate down on the worktable.

“Water?” he queried. At my nod, he went off to fetch two glasses and poured water from a covered pitcher.

Oh dear, I thought. A girl could grow dangerously accustomed to being served by a toff.

“Mrs. Silver learned the best way to keep from being woken at all hours of the night by Reddy and me rummaging around for food was to leave it where it was easily discovered, even for two twits,” Foxcourt explained, circling around to the other side of the worktable. “There was a time the two of us were eating more food than the rest of the household combined.”

He passed the glass of water to me, and I took it gratefully, giving a mock toast. To my delight, he returned it, then watched as I drank half of it. That seemed to satisfy him enough to turn his attention to the plate between us, plucking a blueberry from it.

“No wonder the two of you are taller than most knights of the rainbow,” I noted, breaking off a piece of cheese.

“Knights of the rainbow?” Foxcourt paused, then guessed, “Footmen?”

“Yes,” I said, “because of the array of colors of their livery. There you are, a new bit of cant for you.”

“Even a nib can learn,” he said.

“You still haven’t the slightest notion what that means, do you?” I asked, forgetting myself enough to lean forward and rest my forearms against the table.

“On the contrary, thanks to the delightful introduction Theo gave me to ‘dicked in the nob,’ I now take nob to mean ‘head’ and nib to be something like ‘tail.’”

I shook my head. “Not even close, I fear.”

He looked a bit sour at that but simply tore off a chunk of the bread for me. I made a sandwich with another bit of cheese, already feeling better. Apparently, it showed.

“Your color’s improved,” Foxcourt noted.

“I certainly feel improved,” I said, trying not to fluster under his close attention.

“Have you never thought of moving away from town to the country?” he asked, leaning his own arms on the table in a mirror of my pose.

I made a very ungraceful face. “I don’t love something less for being imperfect. Besides, there’s twice as much animal droppings to be found—or so I’ve heard.”