“Oh naturally.”
His lips quirked as he pushed away from the doorframe to come to stand beside her. “How is my father?” He asked in hushed tones and nodded toward the closed bedroom door.
“Sleeping. He seems in good spirits despite it all.”
“Yes, he was lucky to come away in good health.” He glanced her over. “I should remain at his side a little longer but—”
Violet put a hand to Duke’s arm. “He is resting well, and you spent all day and night by his side. He is not the only one in need of sleep.”
“I think that is the equivalent of you saying I look exhausted.”
“You still look handsome, naturally,” she countered.
He waved a hand toward his bedroom door. “I slept a little, but I was going to say I am more worried about you. Clem said you spent most of the night we were gone pacing the corridors and organizing search parties.” He smirked as he leaned in. “And arming everyone it seems.”
Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. “My family took it upon themselves to a take up arms. Did you know Aunt Sarah has her own personal sword?”
“I would not put it past her.”
“I’m trying not to think about her sleeping with a blade in her room.” She wrapped her arms about herself as the chill of the corridor combined with the idea of Aunt Sarah practicing sword-fighting in her bedroom forced a shiver down her spine.
Duke put an arm about her shoulders. He was warm and smelled of clean linen and a little woodsmoke. “Your mother ensured a fire was lit in your room. It will be warmer there.”
She leaned into his touch, too tired to resist. He guided her down the corridor as though she did not know the way to her own bedroom, and she let him. It felt all too pleasant to share the burden of being about the only sane one in the household. He even pushed open her door and guided her in. She paused when she spied the two trays laden with food carefully set upon her dressing table.
“Did my mother send food up to?” That sounded far too organized to be her mother’s doing.
“I, uh, knew you had not eaten for a while.”
She eyed the plates laden with simple fare—cheese, bread, a little honey, and some fruit cake. A jug of what was likely lemonade also awaited her along with something stronger in a crystal cut decanter. Twisting to look at Duke, she opened her mouth then closed it, her throat tightening. He released his hold of her shoulders and pressed his lips together.
“If you want to eat in peace—”
“You did this for me?” The words came out husky.
“It’s only a simple meal, Vi. I didn’t want to disturb any of the servants. It’s been a long few days for everyone.” He nodded toward the two plates. “You’ll notice I did a terrible job of cutting the bread,”
She eyed the wonky slices that were thick enough to feed at least three people with a soft smile. “It’s wonderful.”
“It’s only cheese and bread.”
“It’s wonderful.” she repeated.
Yes, she had servants who ensured she was fed every day, but they were paid to do so. She couldn’t recall anyone ever worrying about whether she was actually hungry or not.
“Shall we eat then?”
“Here?”
He shrugged. “Why not? I suspect the dining room is mightily cold at this time of night and I can speak from experience when I tell you the kitchen is freezing.”
It shouldn’t matter. They had spent enough time alone in many more scandalous situations recently. Yet something about sharing a meal with Duke in her bedroom made the air thicken in her lungs and her stomach do a little strange dance.
But how could she refuse this man anything? What would be more perfect than sharing a meal with her wonderful friend after such an experience?
She shut the bedroom door behind her firmly and met Duke’s gaze. He didn’t smile or smirk or do that charming lip tilt of his. His dimple remained safely away. Instead, he moved over to the dressing table, pulled the chair out as though he were attending to her at a dinner party and gestured for her to sit.
She shook her head. “Let us eat on the rug. I am not having you standing over me whilst I eat, and it can be like a picnic.”