front walk. Anthony had disappeared from her life, no doubt riding back to London on his magnificent steed, leaving Sophia once again alone.
Perversely, the situation left her mood decidedly flat.
Obviously, her aunt had been exaggerating the major's intentions. As a practical and logical man, Anthony clearly understood her refusal and had left for London. She was now free to resume the normal course of life in Staffordshire.
Naturally, she was pleased that the situation had been resolved so easily, she told herself. It was merely the cloudy day that affected her mood.
So, on the fourth morning after the Major's tea time appearance, she dressed in one of her prettiest gowns to cheer herself up and went down to breakfast. She spotted her aunt immediately. Indeed, who could miss a plump woman adorned with more than a dozen pink bows, when suddenly a deep, rich, very male voice interrupted her thoughts.
"Good morning, Lady Sophia," the major called as he backed awkwardly into the breakfast room toting a tray of breakfast. "You look quite lovely this morning."
Sophia did not know how to respond. She simply stared at him.
"Would you care for some poached eggs? Toast?" he continued almost gleefully. "Cook's kippers are delicious this morning."
Sophia continued to stare. It could not possibly be true. But it was. It was the major, dressed in a butler's knee breeches and stockings, his limp masked by his careful pace. And he was serving her kippers.
"Close your mouth, Sophia," commented her aunt in a merry undertone. "You are catching flies."
Sophia snapped her jaw shut.
"Would you care for some eggs, my lady?" repeated the major.
Sophia lifted her gaze to look directly at him. His eyes were twinkling. Sparkling, actually, which was an odd thing for meltingly dark brown eyes to be doing. Still, somehow he had accomplished it. Just as somehow he had managed to appear in her breakfast room, serving her eggs and morning chocolate.
She swallowed convulsively. "Are you quite well?" she asked before she thought to stop her words. "Does your leg pain you?"
He grinned as he poured her chocolate. "Of course I am well. Thank you for asking. Eggs?"
She watched him a moment longer, searching his face for telltale signs of a fever. There didn't seem to be any.
"Kippers?" he inquired.
Slowly, she dropped her eyes to the cart. "No, thank you," was all she managed.
"You may go now, Major," called her aunt sweetly.
The man nodded and quit the room, his manners impeccable. Sophia watched, her mind still reeling from the sight. The moment the door swung shut behind him, she rounded on her aunt.
"What is he doing here?" she hissed.
"I told you last night that Bowen had left to visit his ailing mother."
Sophia clenched her fingers in her bright canary skirt. "Yes, you did. But I fail to see what that has to do with the major serving kippers to us."
Her aunt raised one finely drawn eyebrow. "Is there something wrong with the kippers?"
"I have no idea; I have not tasted any," she snapped.
"Oh, then did the major spill as he served your chocolate?"
Sophia gritted her teeth but was unable to keep the frustration from her voice. "You know quite well that he did not, although it was a near thing there for a moment." The major obviously was not used to handling fine china while wearing white gloves. Which was all the more reason to suspect her aunt of hidden motives.
"I fail to see the problem," claimed the older woman serenely.
"Well, I do. The major cannot act as our butler!"
When she so chose, Aunt Agatha could look like a cherub being cruelly and unjustly tortured. Now was one of those times. She placed one hand on her chest and opened her eyes wide with shocked horror. "Goodness, Sophia," she gasped. "You must know I had to hire another butler until Bowen returned."
"Of course, but—"
"And the major came to me looking for employment."
Sophia gave her a skeptical look. "Really? The stiff major, an earl's son, came to you
Perversely, the situation left her mood decidedly flat.
Obviously, her aunt had been exaggerating the major's intentions. As a practical and logical man, Anthony clearly understood her refusal and had left for London. She was now free to resume the normal course of life in Staffordshire.
Naturally, she was pleased that the situation had been resolved so easily, she told herself. It was merely the cloudy day that affected her mood.
So, on the fourth morning after the Major's tea time appearance, she dressed in one of her prettiest gowns to cheer herself up and went down to breakfast. She spotted her aunt immediately. Indeed, who could miss a plump woman adorned with more than a dozen pink bows, when suddenly a deep, rich, very male voice interrupted her thoughts.
"Good morning, Lady Sophia," the major called as he backed awkwardly into the breakfast room toting a tray of breakfast. "You look quite lovely this morning."
Sophia did not know how to respond. She simply stared at him.
"Would you care for some poached eggs? Toast?" he continued almost gleefully. "Cook's kippers are delicious this morning."
Sophia continued to stare. It could not possibly be true. But it was. It was the major, dressed in a butler's knee breeches and stockings, his limp masked by his careful pace. And he was serving her kippers.
"Close your mouth, Sophia," commented her aunt in a merry undertone. "You are catching flies."
Sophia snapped her jaw shut.
"Would you care for some eggs, my lady?" repeated the major.
Sophia lifted her gaze to look directly at him. His eyes were twinkling. Sparkling, actually, which was an odd thing for meltingly dark brown eyes to be doing. Still, somehow he had accomplished it. Just as somehow he had managed to appear in her breakfast room, serving her eggs and morning chocolate.
She swallowed convulsively. "Are you quite well?" she asked before she thought to stop her words. "Does your leg pain you?"
He grinned as he poured her chocolate. "Of course I am well. Thank you for asking. Eggs?"
She watched him a moment longer, searching his face for telltale signs of a fever. There didn't seem to be any.
"Kippers?" he inquired.
Slowly, she dropped her eyes to the cart. "No, thank you," was all she managed.
"You may go now, Major," called her aunt sweetly.
The man nodded and quit the room, his manners impeccable. Sophia watched, her mind still reeling from the sight. The moment the door swung shut behind him, she rounded on her aunt.
"What is he doing here?" she hissed.
"I told you last night that Bowen had left to visit his ailing mother."
Sophia clenched her fingers in her bright canary skirt. "Yes, you did. But I fail to see what that has to do with the major serving kippers to us."
Her aunt raised one finely drawn eyebrow. "Is there something wrong with the kippers?"
"I have no idea; I have not tasted any," she snapped.
"Oh, then did the major spill as he served your chocolate?"
Sophia gritted her teeth but was unable to keep the frustration from her voice. "You know quite well that he did not, although it was a near thing there for a moment." The major obviously was not used to handling fine china while wearing white gloves. Which was all the more reason to suspect her aunt of hidden motives.
"I fail to see the problem," claimed the older woman serenely.
"Well, I do. The major cannot act as our butler!"
When she so chose, Aunt Agatha could look like a cherub being cruelly and unjustly tortured. Now was one of those times. She placed one hand on her chest and opened her eyes wide with shocked horror. "Goodness, Sophia," she gasped. "You must know I had to hire another butler until Bowen returned."
"Of course, but—"
"And the major came to me looking for employment."
Sophia gave her a skeptical look. "Really? The stiff major, an earl's son, came to you
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