Outrageously Yours (49 page)

Within moments, Roger handed her a steaming mug of tea. He walked away and opened a cupboard, and returned to place a covered platter on the sofa table in front of her.

“Scones, miss, fresh from the castle ovens. You shouldn’t have long to wait now.” With that, he bowed his way out of the room.

Wait for what?
she yearned to call after him. But such a question would yield her nothing. Fellows such as Roger were trained to follow directions and follow them well, neither asking nor answering questions that were none of his concern. A smidgeon of perplexity forced a sigh to her lips, quickly followed by a yawn. And no wonder, as she had traveled through the night.

Holding her veil aside, she drank some tea and continued a halfhearted perusal of the room. She strained her ears, hearing only the hush of the immediate silence punctuated by the muffled, far-off drone of the grooms and stable hands. She nibbled an almond-flecked scone and tapped her fingers on the cover of the book. Then, in a surge of impatience, she flipped open the cover to reread the urgent summons that had brought her so summarily to Windsor:

At the approaching clatter of footsteps, she flinched and snapped the book shut. In the same instant, the undoubtedly feminine stride struck her as entirely familiar. She set the book aside and came to her feet as a petite figure swathed in forest green wool swept through the doorway.

“My dearest Holly, you are here! At long last you have arrived!”