Page 68 of The Odyssean Duke

“Because the duchess wishes to bake a cake,” Nathanial said. “It is…”

Stephan stared at Nathanial, as he left the thought unfinished. He was certain that he heard the words, but Stephan found it difficult to believe them. Duchesses did not bakecakes. They did not bake at all!

“She is baking a cake,” Stephan echoed.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Stephan felt as if he had left his own body. He did not know whether he ought to be impressed at Evelina for continuing to startle him, for being so utterly brazen, or if he ought to be frightened of what mischief she might have crafted in his kitchens.

“I shall go see her,” Stephan said, his voice strangled.

Nathanial smiled awkwardly, a sentiment which Stephan understood well. He walked through the foyer and to the kitchens. As he made his way down the familiar steps, he heard the sound of light, feminine humming. The warm, sweet scent of honey and butter filled the air. Stephan’s mouth watered. A duchess baking was inconceivable, but that she might have produced such a delectable-smelling cake seemed utterly impossible.

He paused at the bottom of the stairs. In the center of the kitchen was a large table, empty save for a golden-colored cake covered in a thin layer of sugar. His wife was bent over it, a white apron thrown over her lilac gown. His eyes swept slowly over her delicate form, from her lovely hair bound up in ringlets and pearl-tipped pins. She was bent over, adjusting the position of the cake on a silver tray, and her swan-like neck was shown to its best effect. He imagined what it would be like to press his lips to her thundering pulse. From there, Stephan would trail kisses to her shoulder and slip that sleeve down her arm.

He inhaled, breath thundering in his chest. Would tonight be when she finally succumbed to him? Stephan dug his nails into his palms, gripped in a fantasy of what it might be like to approach her from behind and seduce her right there.

Evelina turned and saw him. She jumped and let out a small, musical laugh. “I did not hear you enter!”

Stephan crossed his arms and slowly approached her. “Since when do duchesses bake cakes? Or do cooking of any kind?”

“Since me,” Evelina said proudly. “Do you wish to try it?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Evelina retrieved a knife and two plates. Stephan watched, noting the practiced ease with which she managed the knife. “You have done this before,” he said.

“Of course,” she replied. “Many times.”

“This will be the first time I have eaten something made by a duchess,” he said.

Evelina smiled slyly and offered him the plate of cake. “Enjoy.”

Stephan took the plate and ate a bit of the cake. Honey and sugar melted on his tongue, blending together exquisitely. He doubted that his own staff could produce something so exquisite, and he stared at Evelina, trying to understand why she was so gifted.

He swallowed. Only his curiosity was stronger than his desire to take another bite. “Where did you learn this?”

“From my cook, of course,” she said with a laugh.

“Most ladies in the ton do not care to learn from their cooks,” he said.

“That is because most ladies are taught that they must behave properly every minute of every day,” Evelina replied. “Once, I also believed that.”

Stephan took another bite of the cake and fixed her with a considering look. “What happened?”

“Well,” Evelina said slowly. “I don’t suppose it was one thing. I saw my mother’s life and her marriage, and she seemed like a stranger in her own home sometimes. She and my father had a tumultuous marriage. He did not treat her with the respect and dignity that a woman deserves, and that hurt my whole family. I never wanted for that to be my life.”

It was another piece to the puzzle that was Evelina, and knowing that she had resolved to be different—had devoted herself to it—made his admiration for her grow.

“My mother managed to divorce my father,” Evelina continued. “I am so very proud of her for that. I never thought she would, and there has been—well—the expected scorn because of it. She looks happier, though. I think she will manage fine, given time.”

Stephan nodded. He took another bite of the cake and realized, to his surprise, that he had eaten the entire thing. “That is good,” he said. “She sounds like a remarkable woman.”

Evelina smiled. “She is.”

Stephan set his plate aside. Evelina took a bite of her own cake, a knowing look in her eye. It was as if she was well aware of how talented a cook she was, and she fully intended to bask in the moment of her victory.