said gently. “Good things can happen to her too.”
“I hope so,” Annabelle said softly, and thanked him for the meal. It had been a lovely evening. He helped her put the dishes in the sink, and then she turned to him with a smile, their friendship blossoming between them. “You’re a pretty good cook.”
“Wait until you taste my soufflés. I also make the stuffing at Thanksgiving,” he said proudly.
“How did you ever learn to cook?” She looked amused. None of the men in her family had ever cooked, she wasn’t even sure they knew how to find the kitchen.
He laughed in answer. “If you stay single as long as I have, you either starve or learn to feed yourself. Or go out every night, which gets exhausting. A lot of the time, I’d rather stay home and cook.”
“Me too, about the stay-at-home part. But I’m not much of a cook.”
“You don’t need to be,” he reminded her, and she looked momentarily embarrassed. She had been waited on all her life. But so had he.
“I should still learn one of these days. Maybe I will.” She had been impressed by how competent and organized he was in the kitchen.
“I can teach you a few tricks,” he volunteered, and she liked the idea.
“That sounds like fun,” she said, looking enthusiastic. She always had a good time with him.
“Just think of it as science, that will make it easier for you.” She laughed as she turned off the lights and he followed her back up the stairs. They went through two doors, and came back out in the main hall, under the chandelier. He was carrying his tailcoat, and his top hat and gloves were on the hall table. He picked them up, slipped into his tailcoat, and put the hat back on his head. He looked as elegant as ever, and no one would have suspected that he had cooked dinner.
“You look very dashing, Mr. Millbank. I had a wonderful time with you tonight.”
“Me too,” he said, and kissed her chastely on the cheek. He didn’t want to rush her, they had months still ahead of them as just friends, despite her mother’s blessing. “I’ll see you soon. Thank you for going to Hortie’s wedding with me, Annabelle. Those things can be deadly boring, unless you have someone fun to go with.”
“I think so too,” she agreed. “And the best part was talking about it in the kitchen afterward.” She giggled, and he smiled too.
“Goodnight, Annabelle,” he said, opening the door, and turned to look at her before he closed it behind him. She picked her jacket up off the chair, stuck her hat back on her head at a crazy angle, and walked up the stairs to her bedroom with a smile and an enormous yawn. She had had an excellent time, and was so glad that she and Josiah were friends.
Chapter 6
M uch to Consuelo’s delight, at Annabelle’s urging, they invited Josiah to dinner on Christmas Eve. It wasn’t a romantic move on Annabelle’s part, she just felt that he had been so nice to them that they should do something for him in return, since he was alone for Christmas. As they always did, they had Christmas Eve dinner in white tie. Annabelle and her mother wore evening gowns, and as directed, Josiah arrived in a well-cut tailcoat with an immaculately starched shirt and vest, with beautiful old pearl and diamond studs and cuff links that had been his grandfather’s. And he touched them both by bringing presents.
Annabelle had bought a cashmere scarf for Josiah, and a cookbook partly as a joke, but he said he loved it. And Annabelle was embarrassed to discover that he had bought her a beautiful gold bracelet at Tiffany, and a handsome black silk scarf for her mother.
They shared a lovely, warm evening together, and sat in front of the fireplace after dinner. Josiah drank brandy, while the two ladies drank eggnog laced with rum, from a recipe Arthur had always made, and they admired the tree that Consuelo and Annabelle had decorated. It was a difficult Christmas for them that year, understandably, and Josiah avoided the topic
“I hope so,” Annabelle said softly, and thanked him for the meal. It had been a lovely evening. He helped her put the dishes in the sink, and then she turned to him with a smile, their friendship blossoming between them. “You’re a pretty good cook.”
“Wait until you taste my soufflés. I also make the stuffing at Thanksgiving,” he said proudly.
“How did you ever learn to cook?” She looked amused. None of the men in her family had ever cooked, she wasn’t even sure they knew how to find the kitchen.
He laughed in answer. “If you stay single as long as I have, you either starve or learn to feed yourself. Or go out every night, which gets exhausting. A lot of the time, I’d rather stay home and cook.”
“Me too, about the stay-at-home part. But I’m not much of a cook.”
“You don’t need to be,” he reminded her, and she looked momentarily embarrassed. She had been waited on all her life. But so had he.
“I should still learn one of these days. Maybe I will.” She had been impressed by how competent and organized he was in the kitchen.
“I can teach you a few tricks,” he volunteered, and she liked the idea.
“That sounds like fun,” she said, looking enthusiastic. She always had a good time with him.
“Just think of it as science, that will make it easier for you.” She laughed as she turned off the lights and he followed her back up the stairs. They went through two doors, and came back out in the main hall, under the chandelier. He was carrying his tailcoat, and his top hat and gloves were on the hall table. He picked them up, slipped into his tailcoat, and put the hat back on his head. He looked as elegant as ever, and no one would have suspected that he had cooked dinner.
“You look very dashing, Mr. Millbank. I had a wonderful time with you tonight.”
“Me too,” he said, and kissed her chastely on the cheek. He didn’t want to rush her, they had months still ahead of them as just friends, despite her mother’s blessing. “I’ll see you soon. Thank you for going to Hortie’s wedding with me, Annabelle. Those things can be deadly boring, unless you have someone fun to go with.”
“I think so too,” she agreed. “And the best part was talking about it in the kitchen afterward.” She giggled, and he smiled too.
“Goodnight, Annabelle,” he said, opening the door, and turned to look at her before he closed it behind him. She picked her jacket up off the chair, stuck her hat back on her head at a crazy angle, and walked up the stairs to her bedroom with a smile and an enormous yawn. She had had an excellent time, and was so glad that she and Josiah were friends.
Chapter 6
M uch to Consuelo’s delight, at Annabelle’s urging, they invited Josiah to dinner on Christmas Eve. It wasn’t a romantic move on Annabelle’s part, she just felt that he had been so nice to them that they should do something for him in return, since he was alone for Christmas. As they always did, they had Christmas Eve dinner in white tie. Annabelle and her mother wore evening gowns, and as directed, Josiah arrived in a well-cut tailcoat with an immaculately starched shirt and vest, with beautiful old pearl and diamond studs and cuff links that had been his grandfather’s. And he touched them both by bringing presents.
Annabelle had bought a cashmere scarf for Josiah, and a cookbook partly as a joke, but he said he loved it. And Annabelle was embarrassed to discover that he had bought her a beautiful gold bracelet at Tiffany, and a handsome black silk scarf for her mother.
They shared a lovely, warm evening together, and sat in front of the fireplace after dinner. Josiah drank brandy, while the two ladies drank eggnog laced with rum, from a recipe Arthur had always made, and they admired the tree that Consuelo and Annabelle had decorated. It was a difficult Christmas for them that year, understandably, and Josiah avoided the topic