as she ladled out hot soup. ‘Kate can call me by whatever name she chooses.’ A glint in his eyes suggested that he didn’t believe her choice was likely to be anything as complimentary as his given name.
Kate ladled piping hot soup into his dish, fervently wishing it were his lap. ‘Jay will be just fine,’ she said, congratulating herself on her restraint.
Lady Maynard kept the conversation going, eager to hear how things were going, and Kate launched into an outline of the ideas that had already formed in her mind. Other than the occasional response to his aunt’s eager prompting, he added little to the discussion, but she was conscious of him listening, watching her, every moment.
Afterwards she declined an invitation to join Tisha in the drawing-room for coffee, retiring instead to her office to continue the detailed planning, now that the broad strokes were in place. She was reading through a series of lists, double checking, when she suddenly became conscious of being watched. She looked up to find Jay standing in the doorway and regarding her with something approaching amusement.
‘Do you normally become so engrossed in what you’re doing?’ he asked.
She flushed, only too aware of her habit of muttering out loud when she was planning anything. ‘How long have you been standing there?’ she demanded.
‘Quite long enough.’ His unexpected laughter was disconcerting. It made him seem too human. ‘I was rather hoping you would be making some coffee.’
Kate glanced at her watch, a very large one with cartoon characters on the face, bought for her birthday by Sam. ‘It’s rather late for coffee.’
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