Page 50 of An Unfamiliar Duke

She opened her diary to the back page. If she’d ever needed a list to sort through her tangle of emotions, it was now. Her eyes landed on her most recent entry in the Good Things list: 12. He kissed me. Butterflies danced in her stomach at the memory of the kiss she and Sebastian had shared this evening. What had she been thinking? She pressed her cool hands to her warm cheeks. That was just it. She hadn’t been thinking; she’d been feeling. And it had been completely wonderful.

She groaned, forcing her mind back to earlier in the day and their visit to the Becketts. What more could she add to her list? 13. He likes children. 14. He does not want me for a sister. She pondered the last entry. It was an odd item for the Good Things list, and it had not been something she had entertained in a positive light initially, but after what had happened between them in the workshop, she could assuredly say it was a very good thing.

The workshop. There was something she must change on her Bad Things list. She read through the entries again. 1. He refused me entry to his tree house. 2. I do not love him. 3. I do not know him. 4. He abandoned me. 5. He refused me entry to his workshop. Dipping her quill in ink, she penned a straight line through the fifth item. She may never be invited into Sebastian’s workshop again, but now that she understood why he kept the door locked, it was no longer a bad thing.

Her quill hovered over the list. So much had changed since the day Sebastian had walked into Langton House as a complete stranger. It would likely take years to truly know him as well as she would like, but she now understood and appreciated him in ways she could never have anticipated. Indeed, she knew and liked Sebastian better than any other gentleman of her acquaintance. That simple yet profound truth shone as a bright light in an uncomfortably large abyss of unknowns, and before she could second-guess herself, she drew a line through 3. I do not know him.

Setting aside her quill, she closed the book. Tomorrow morning, she might learn what Sebastian liked to eat for breakfast, but that would do little to change what she already knew of his essential characteristics. And if she were being fully honest with herself, those were qualities she was coming to admire rather a lot.

Chapter 20

Rosalind was already seated at the dining room table when Sebastian entered. His pulse quickened at the sight of her. No matter that it had been after two o’clock in the morning before he’d finally collapsed into bed, knowing that he was to see her at breakfast was motivation enough to rise again a few short hours later.

“Good morning,” she said.

“Good morning.” He took a plate and quickly filled it from the row of platters on the sideboard before taking a seat beside her.

She glanced at his plate. “Kippers? I would have taken you for a gentleman who preferred sausage.”

“Actually, I am a gentleman who prefers Chelsea buns, but I generally hear from Mrs. Shoup if I do not eat something more than that at breakfast.”

Rosalind laughed. “You are a duke. I am quite sure you may dictate what you have for breakfast.”

“Unfortunately, I have never had much success in convincing Cook that my elevated status carries sway in the kitchen.” He cut into his kipper with resignation. “It may have something to do with how many times I pilfered treats as a child.”

“Ah.” Her eyes sparkled with humor. “Your reprobate past has returned to haunt you.”

“So it would seem.”

“Well, as it happens, I am meeting with Mrs. Frost to discuss menus today. Am I to assume that you would like me to add Chelsea buns to the list of breakfast offerings?”

He grinned. “You assume correctly.”

“Do you have any other preferences I should be aware of?”

“No offal.” He shuddered. “Especially first thing in the morning. If you can persuade Mrs. Frost and Mrs. Shoup of that, I shall be eternally grateful.”

Her lips twitched as though she were fighting a smile. “I shall do my best.” She took a sip of her drinking chocolate, and Sebastian passed over the remainder of his kipper in favor of a bread roll. “I was also wondering if I should suggest that Cook make a few extra biscuits and cakes this week in case we have visitors. I assume word of our marriage will reach your neighbors soon and they will feel it their duty to pay a call.”

Sebastian swallowed a piece of bread, and it entered the newly formed pit in his stomach. Of course his neighbors would come to meet his bride. Likely in droves. Given how quickly such news spread, it was a wonder no one had come already.

“I think that would be wise,” he said. “Some of our neighbors may be considerate enough to wait a week or two before coming, but they will undoubtedly make an appearance within a fortnight.”

For a fraction of a second, he caught the hint of vulnerability in her eyes. But when she spoke, she appeared calm and assured. “I know that you are anxious to complete your assignment in the workshop, so I will strive to keep interruptions to a minimum.”

He set down his bread roll. Regardless of how much he disliked social calls, he knew that she should not be required to entertain their neighbors alone.

“Have Vickers alert me when I am needed in the drawing room,” he said. “I shall come.”

As if summoned by Sebastian’s use of his name, Vickers appeared in the doorway, a silver salver in his hand. “Good morning, Your Graces,” he said with a bow. “The post has arrived, and there are two letters for Her Grace. I thought perhaps she would like them right away.”

Rosalind’s countenance brightened. “I would indeed. Thank you, Vickers.”

He nodded and handed her two envelopes. “And you, Your Grace?” he asked, turning to Sebastian. “Would you like me to place your letters on your study desk as usual?”

Sebastian glanced at Rosalind. She was already opening the seal on one of the envelopes. She would undoubtedly be distracted for a little while, so it might be just as well to read his own letters now. “No. I can take them,” he said.

Vickers passed him the remaining four envelopes on the salver. Sebastian flipped through them, his fingers stilling when he came to one addressed in a rather haphazard script. Setting the other letters aside, he broke the seal and withdrew a single sheet of paper. It took mere seconds to read the short note and for his elation to rise.