The butler bestowed a rare look of pure sympathy on Catherine. “I am so sorry that you have had to be under his care for so long. His Grace will take a great deal of concern for you and ensure that all is well. Never you mind, my lady, and I am sorry that I turned you away last night. If you had but said—”
“I did not realize that if I simply uttered my brother’s name I would gain admittance,” she said honestly. “I had thought the opposite was true.”
“His Grace takes care of anyone who has been wronged,” Everson said proudly.
“That is clear to me now,” she replied.
Everson took a step back. “Breakfast is waiting, of course, Your Grace.”
“I think we may need tea this morning, Everson,” he mused. “Do you drink tea, Lady Catherine?”
“I do,” she replied before she blinked and gasped. “Do you not drink tea?”
“I drink tea upon occasion,” he said, “but I prefer coffee. If I can, I go down to the coffee houses with a newspaper and have a chat with the fellows there. It’s the best way to learn all the gossip of the city. But today I shall be keeping new company, and Everson will go and brew a pot.”
“I should like to try coffee, if I may,” she vented. “I have never been allowed to do so.”
“Or would you prefer drinking chocolate, Lady Catherine?” Everson piped. “We often make chocolate for His Grace on an evening.”
“His Grace drinks chocolate on an evening?” she asked, her brows rising ever so slightly.
Everson nodded pleasantly, clearly glad he had managed to find something that intrigued her after their contentious meeting at the ducal door.
“Yes,” Everson affirmed. “When the cold draws in, it is His Grace’s favorite beverage, far above brandy.”
She blinked. “Truly?”
“Yes,” Garret admitted.
As most gentlemen did, he liked brandy.
It was fine, but sometimes he didn’t wish to have the slightly blurred effect that the beverage could cause, nor did he necessarily wish the burn in his throat or the acidic taste in his mouth.
In his view, chocolate was a phenomenal beverage, one he was eminently grateful for. The richness of it, the sweetness of it that coated his mouth and slipped over his tongue, running down the back of his throat, warming his insides. Heaven.
And he often thought it was almost as good as a kiss. Not a kiss like the one he’d shared with Cat, of course, but it was a rather lovely beverage. “Do you not generally drink chocolate?” He requested. “It is known as a good beverage for young ladies at breakfast.”
She gave a tight shake of her head. “No. My brother did not think it was good for my figure.”
His insides twisted. “Your brother is an arse.”
A laugh tumbled over her lips. “I agree.”
“Have chocolate sent up, Everson,” Garret declared firmly. He’d feed her chocolate all bloody day. “The lady should try some of Cook’s. Cook has the best hot chocolate in all of London, I assure you.”
She grinned. “I am eager to try the best of anything.”
“Good,” he replied and escorted her into the breakfast room.
Everson had already turned and made his way down to the kitchens.
Lady Catherine stared at the table for one long moment. He observed her doing this, wondering what was so unique as to hold her interest.
She was from a very important family. The sight of painted porcelain, fine linen, and copious amounts of silver should not have surprised her. She swung her gaze to the sideboard and her eyes widened.
Her hands tightened slightly as if she was holding herself back.
“Whatever is amiss?” he asked. “Do you not care for breakfast?”