Winning the Gentleman (Hearts on the Heath #2) - Kristi Ann Hunter Page 0,31

bed and donned her second-best riding outfit. One could also call it her worst riding ensemble, since she only possessed two, but that seemed a disservice to the trusty garment.

Unfortunately, her morning preparations didn’t take a great deal of time. The world outside the window was still dark, and she had nothing to do but wait for the sun to rise and the promised breakfast tray to be delivered.

She settled into the lone chair. It would have been simpler—and given her something to do—if she could go below and obtain the food herself, but the woman who’d shown her to this room had been very particular.

There was nothing to do but watch the sky lighten with the edges of a new day’s sun. As she sat in the hard chair with her head propped against the window, she once more fell into a hazy doze.

A short perfunctory knock was followed by the opening of the door, and Sophia jerked back to wakefulness. The chair beneath her tipped, coming to rest against the foot of the bed, leaving her at an awkward angle, looking up at a wide-eyed maid. It wasn’t the same one from the night before, but Sophia guessed the two would compare experiences at some point. She wasn’t going to come out favorably.

Scrambling out of the angled chair was not an easy or elegant feat, and by the time Sophia had regained her composure, the maid had deposited the tray on the chest of drawers and departed.

Aromas she hadn’t enjoyed in ages filled the room, and Sophia’s stomach clenched in anticipation. Last night’s stew had been more than enjoyable, but this . . . Her eyes widened and her mouth watered.

Bread—fresh bread, not the day-old loaves the bakers sold her at a discount—sat beside a bowl of porridge and a plate piled with meat and eggs. Likely the meat was from the day before, but Sophia didn’t care. What little meat she normally ate was scraps of leftover tavern fare tucked into a pastry, so the spread on the tray was sheer delicacy.

There was more than enough for Jonas to eat as well, if she could find a way to transport it. A bowl of porridge couldn’t be wrapped in a cloth and shoved into a sack like a meat pie could, but there had to be something she could do.

She would have to check the clock in the kitchen, but she should have time to go by the knoll where Jonas said he would be waiting before she went to the training yard. After she ate her portion, she scraped the remaining porridge to the side of the bowl and laid the meat and eggs in the other half. The food wouldn’t stay separate on the journey, but Jonas wouldn’t care. He’d be as excited about the jumbled-up fare as she’d been about the prettily laid out tray. Turning the plate over, she set it on the bowl and then tied the napkin around both to secure them.

If she carried it carefully, it shouldn’t spill too much.

Returning the tray to the kitchen herself would be easy enough, but if anyone saw her leaving with her bundled dishes, they’d have questions.

Her two changes of clothes now hung from the wall pegs, leaving her bag nearly empty. She dumped what contents remained onto the bed. Her father’s horse training manuals, the miniature of her family, and a small wooden box that had once held a set of jewelry were all quickly transferred to the top drawer of the chest. They didn’t even fill it halfway.

Gently, she laid the covered bowl in the bottom of the bag.

Frowning, she experimented with lifting the sides. As soon as she put the strap on her shoulder, the food would fall sideways and spill. It needed support. She pulled a sheet from the bed and coiled it in the bag as a nest for her brother’s meal.

Satisfied that it was as secure as could be, she laid the bread atop the bowl and secured the flap of the knapsack. For extra protection, she curled her arm beneath the bundle. Just imagining Jonas’s reaction put a smile on her face.

She turned to leave the room, but her body froze as her fingers landed on the latch. Looking over her shoulder at the small chest of drawers, her breath hitched. Those mementos hadn’t been far from her side in years. She hadn’t even left them in the wagon at the circus, instead choosing to store them