It was Kate who came in to appease Mrs. Leggat, putting an arm around the agitated cook and steering her toward the cellar. “Why don’t we find a nice box to put the biscuits in, hmm?” the housekeeper said in an encouraging voice. “I think I saw a decorative one by the sherry.”
“Sherry?” The cook perked up.
“What do you say we have a little nip of it to warm ourselves?” Kate said, flashing a wink back at Valerie. “You won’t mind the mess so much when you’ve had a sip or two.”
The murmuring cook allowed herself to be led down the cellar stairs, leaving Valerie and the boys to finish their work.
“Will he really not like them?” Isaac asked nervously.
David, on the other hand, snorted. “I hope he doesn’t, so we can have them. We can take them back to the orphanage with us.”
“Well, I am convinced that hewilllike them,” Valerie insisted, as she rolled up the long sleeves of her chemise and set to work on cleaning up the mess. “Remember, these are to say thank you. Wewanthim to like them. Now, pour the last of that mixture into a tin so we can give the poor cook her kitchen back.”
With refreshed vigor, David and Isaac worked together to pour the last batch into a buttered tin. Valerie tried not to chuckle as they spilled at least a third onto the counter.
Almost an hour later, leaving behind a pristine kitchen and a relieved cook, Valerie and the two boys made their way through the labyrinth of the castle with their box of treats. The shortbread was still warm, which had made decorating the biscuits a somewhat catastrophic affair, but they were beautiful in meaning if not in physical form.
However, with each step that the trio took toward the study, the boys became quieter. Their lively chatter tapered off, their sweet faces etched with nerves. It was clear that they had relished their time building snowmen with Adrian, but he was still the beast, the devil, the cursed one that they had heard so many stories about. That fear did not go away because of one reasonably successful venture in the snow.
Why did Mrs. Leggat have to say that he would not like the biscuits?Valerie lamented, while her own nerves began to jitter a little.
Before long, they arrived at Adrian’s study door.
Valerie had not seen it from this perspective before, for she had only departed from it in barefoot haste, with the taste of Adrian’s kiss still lingering upon her lips. Her heart quickened at the memory, how fiercely he had pressed his mouth to hers, how dismayed she had been when it ended without her grazing reply.
Last night’s kiss had left her dismayed by its abrupt ending too, but at least she had experienced more. At least she had been given the chance to kiss him back, to learn how wondrous that could feel—how wondrous many things could feel.
His touch… the taste of his tongue… the grasp of his hand… the roll of his hips…
Remembering there were children present, and this was not the time for daydreaming, she cleared her throat and knocked upon the study door.
“Come in,” Adrian’s gruff voice responded.
A good sign, or so Valerie thought.
As she ushered the boys and their gift inside, it became evident that Adrian had been expecting Mr. Jarvis and not the trio who had already disturbed so much of his day.
He looked up from a large stack of correspondence, his usual, deep frown frosting the blue of his eyes. Indeed, it appeared that Valerie and the boys were the very last people that Adrian had expected… or wanted to see at that moment.
“What are you doing here?” he asked tersely.
Undeterred, Valerie stood straighter and gestured down to the gift in Isaac’s hands: a wooden box that Kate had found in the cellar, beautifully decorated with open-beaked robins, sprigs of green holly with their vivid red berries, and white-berried mistletoe alongside; a sleigh pulled by snowy horses created the main motif on two sides, while a haloed angel adorned the other two. The perfect box for festive biscuits.
“David and Isaac have made you something, to say thank you for allowing them to stay,” she explained. “They thought you might like to try one with your afternoon cup of tea.”
The furrow of Adrian’s brow moved in the opposite direction, irritation transforming into confusion. He set down his quill and slowly looked between the trio, the box, and the neat silver teatray that perched upon the edge of his desk. As if trying to figure out how they connected, or how Valerie had known about his afternoon tea, taken at the same time every day. Like clockwork.
“There was no need to do that,” he said at last, his manner stiff.
Valerie gave David a light elbow in the arm.
The boy sprang forward, hands clasped. “They’re real good, Your Grace. We made ‘em special for you.”
“I bet they’d be perfect with tea,” Isaac agreed, shuffling toward the bureau with no small amount of courage. With a nervous smile, he held the box out to Adrian.
Narrowing his eyes, Adrian reached over and took the box. “Thank you. It is a… very nice box.” He stared at the boy. “If there is nothing else, you may leave.”
“You have to look inside,” Valerie jumped in, as Isaac began to back away. “It would be better if the boys could see you admire what they have made for you. They are still warm, so it would also be better if you ate one now.”
