Page 63 of The Duke's Sinful Deal
“Tea,” Maxwell said. “Nothing further.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Maxwell took a seat near the window, the position allowing him a clear view of the yard without placing him at the center of the room. The valet remained standing until dismissed, then moved to make the necessary arrangements.
For a moment, there was nothing required of him.
No decisions to be made or accounts to review, and no voices demanding his attention. Only the quiet, broken occasionally by the movement of others and the steady crackle of the fire.
Maxwell rested his hand against the table, his gaze drifting outward.
London was still a day’s journey away.
And yet, the sense of its approach had already begun to settle, not as obligation, but as something more immediate, something that had begun to take shape long before he had left.
He did not examine it.
He did not name it.
But as the tea was set before him and the carriage prepared once more for departure, he found that his thoughts no longer moved between past and present with the same detachment.
They moved forward.
Toward what awaited him there.
* * *
The grass was still damp beneath the blanket.
Arabella noticed it the moment she sat, the faint coolness seeping through the fabric of her gown as she adjusted herself into place. The park was quieter here than along the main promenade, the trees spaced wide enough to allow sunlight through without exposing them entirely to passing eyes. A carriage rolled somewhere beyond the rise, its wheels softened by distance, while closer at hand, a pair of children chased one another beneath the watchful eye of a nurse.
“It is perfectly charming,” Jane said, though she had already rearranged the basket twice and adjusted the plates a third time. “I do not see why anyone insists upon grander arrangements.”
“Because grander arrangements allow for better observation,” Cissie replied, unfolding her gloves with deliberate care. “If one is to be seen, one ought to be seen properly.”
Arabella smiled faintly, accepting the teacup Jane offered her. “Then we are quite fortunate to be neither seen nor observed at present.”
Cissie glanced around the clearing with a practiced eye. “Give it ten minutes.”
Jane laughed under her breath, settling beside Arabella. “You are incorrigible.”
“If you say so,” Cissie returned lightly. Then her gaze settled more directly on Arabella. “And you are not as distracted today.”
Arabella lifted her cup, pausing only slightly. “Truly?”
“No,” Cissie said. “You are actually listening.”
Jane glanced between them, curiosity flickering across her expression. “That is a good sign, is it not?”
“It depends,” Cissie replied. “On what she intends to say now that she is listening.”
Arabella set her cup down carefully.
The moment stretched, not uncomfortable, but expectant. The breeze stirred the edge of the blanket, carrying the faint scent of blossoms from somewhere beyond the trees. Arabella drew in a slow breath, her gaze moving between them.
“I suppose,” she said at last, “that depends on whether you are prepared to hear it.”
Jane straightened slightly. “We always are.”
