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Chapter 6

Breakfast with Nash Powell turned out to be an amusing experience for Ailie. She had gone to her room to change her gown and, when she entered the dining room, she found him standing in front of the sideboard, staring at the dishes offered.

“Confused?”

He scratched his head, holding his empty plate. “A bit. I scarce know where to begin.”

She looked around. “They’ve left you all alone?”

“The countess and Emily were leaving just as I was coming in. They told me Kit, Tara and Mary ate early with their husbands before they left for the geese hunt.”

Ailie watched Nash pile eggs, biscuits and butter onto his plate, turning up his nose at the more Scottish fare.

He pointed to a pale substance in a round dish. “Do you actually eat that?”

She resisted a laugh. “’Tis gruitheam, or to the uninitiated Englishman like yerself, curds and butter. And, aye, we do.” She spread some on a girdle scone and placed it next to the strong-smelling cheese she had just added to her plate.

Drawing his attention to the triangular scones, she said, “Don’t you want to try a scone?”

“Those are scones? They seem a bit… flat.”

“Do not be insulting Martha’s girdle scones or she will be denying you supper. Try one.”

“Very well, because you asked,” he said with a brilliant smile, looking very much like his twin. She didn’t have to ask if he was Nash since he wore the same coat he’d had on when she’d encountered him in the orangery.

Ignoring the curds mixture, he added a scone to his plate and carried it to the table. With a few adds to her own plate, she took the seat across from him.

He picked up a scone and lathered it with marmalade and butter. “I will content myself with this, a biscuit and the eggs.” He looked at her with a hopeful expression. “I don’t suppose there is bacon?”

She chuckled. “We Scots do not favor pork as do the English. Did ye nae ken the Scots call the English ‘pork-eaters’?

“What?”

Ailie gave him a sidelong glance. “You need take no offense. ’Tis just one of those curious things, like the French calling the English ‘rosbifs’. Some Scots do raise pigs, but most often they send the carcasses to Aberdeen where they are salted for export.” She went to the sideboard to bring a dish to the table and placed it before him. “Don’t you want to try the smoked haddies?”

“The what?” He pursed his lips as he stared at the plate of haddock, their skins bronzed from the smoking process. Ailie was highly entertained. “Perhaps later,” he said, clenching his teeth.

It was all Ailie could do not to laugh. “’Tis a shame,” she said, forcing her expression to remain serious. “They’re a specialty of this part of Scotland, you know.” She shook her head and reverted to a Scot’s way of speaking. “If ye’ll nae try the haddies or the gruitheam, we ha’ verra guid chocolate and tae.”

He stared at her openmouthed for a moment. “Tea, please.”

She fought a fit of laughter, but there was something about his honesty, much like that of a small boy, that charmed her. Having dismissed the footman when she first entered the room, Ailie poured Nash his tea.

With a nod of thanks, he happily settled into his breakfast.

From beneath her lashes, she watched him eating his eggs and marmalade-lathered scone and had to admit he and his brother were attractive men, broad-shouldered and well featured. And those hazel eyes. Right.

She speared a bit of haddie on her fork. “What kind of ships do you design?”

“Schooners and sloops mostly but, unlike you, I only dabble in the design of the merchant ships we sail. I give my drawings to Tara who sends the ones she likes to her family in Baltimore. Stag Shipping, her family’s business, has used a few. From what I saw, you are an expert. I’m still amazed at the Ossian.”

“Is that because the designer is a woman?”

He sighed heavily. “You needn’t be prickly. I was amazed because I have never seen such a schooner. Once I considered the effect of the changes you made, I could see they would increase the ship’s speed. You must show me your drawings and tell me what led to your design.”

“All right,” she said, wondering how much she would tell him. “I keep the drawings in the office. After I show you around the yard, we’ll go there.”

When they were finished eating, he helped her put on her cloak and donned his greatcoat before she led him out into the frigid morning air.