To Save a Love - Alexa Aston Page 0,19

like him. He’s very sharp. Kind.”

“And a bit impulsive,” she said, laughing. “After all, he offered for me only minutes after we met.”

They enjoyed tea together, their conversation never ceasing. He talked a bit about the army and his relief that the war was behind him. He mentioned Rhys and regretting that he left his dear friend behind.

“I think you would like him, Dalinda.”

“If he is your friend, of course I would. It is interesting that he had a benefactor purchase his commission and that he might one day become an earl, the same as you.”

“We will have to see what the future holds.”

Dalinda went to read with the boys afterward while Dez took a much-needed bath. The twins dined together and talked until midnight before parting for the evening.

The next morning, Dez joined his nephews for breakfast.

“Good morning, boys,” he called cheerfully as he entered the breakfast room, finding Dalinda had yet to arrive.

They both murmured a greeting but Harry kept his eyes on his plate, his lips twitching in amusement. Arthur boldly looked Dez in the eyes. Dez could tell from their behavior that something was afoot. His sister had written about the trouble these two could get in to and Dez sensed he was about to be the victim of some boyhood prank. Arthur had to be the mastermind, acting cool and confident, while Harry wriggled in his seat, toying with his food, surreptitiously eyeing Dez.

“Do you like to drink tea or coffee with your breakfast, Uncle Dez?” Arthur asked innocently.

“I generally like both.” He paused. “Perhaps I should drink a cup of milk this morning as you boys are doing.”

Harry’s head popped up, his jaw falling open. Arthur took his uncle’s words in stride, however, and was obviously the instigator of what was to come.

“You don’t have to do that, Uncle Dez,” Arthur said. “Why, I cannot wait to be old enough to be allowed to drink coffee.”

“Then coffee it is,” Dez proclaimed. “For both of us,” he told the footman, who approached with a coffeepot. “Bring a cup and saucer for my older nephew,” he instructed the footman, who poured the hot brew into Dez’s cup. “It’s about time he tried some.”

“Really?” Arthur asked, intrigued by the thought of drinking coffee. “Mama wouldn’t approve. She’s says a man shouldn’t drink coffee until he is old enough to shave.”

“Then you better finish it before she arrives,” Dez advised sagely.

A cup was placed before Arthur and he sat up straighter. The footman poured coffee into it, the rich smell inviting. Coffee, real coffee, was something Dez had missed during his time at war.

“Coffee is better with a bit of sugar and cream in it,” he advised.

Harry’s hand went to his mouth, trying to hide a smile, letting Dez know that something had been placed in the sugar or cream—or both.

“Oh, I can drink it this way,” Arthur said.

Dez doubted it but said, “Go ahead and try.”

Bravely, Arthur brought the cup to his lips and took a sip. He scrunched up his face.

“Bleech!”

“See, I told you. Coffee smells delightful but needs something to take the edge off it.” He poured milk into his cup and then spooned some sugar into it. Pushing both toward Arthur, he said, “Try some of both. It will make it quite tasty. I guarantee it,” wondering how Arthur would get out of the situation.

“No, really, Uncle, I think I prefer it black,” his nephew said shakily.

Harry stifled a giggle and scooped some eggs on his fork, stuffing them into his mouth as he watched them.

Dez stirred his coffee, knowing for the prank to succeed he needed to take at least one sip. He brought the cup to his lips, both Arthur’s and Harry’s eyes wide now, watching him anxiously. Dez tilted the cup toward him but kept his lips together. The boys wouldn’t be able to see that he didn’t drink anything and he would save himself from whatever had been placed in his cup.

He quickly lowered the cup, screwing up his face, pushing his tongue out several times as if he tried to rid himself of a foul taste.

“Oh, that’s horrible!” he exclaimed.

Harry started giggling. Arthur waited a moment and then burst out laughing.

Playing along, Dez asked, “Good lord, whatever did you put in it?”

“We didn’t put anything in your coffee,” Arthur said innocently.

“Semantics, Arthur,” he chided. “Nothing was in the coffee itself but something was in the sugar or cream.”

Arthur smiled triumphantly. “You were the one who added those in, Uncle