Besides, they weren’t really alone. The market swarmed with people. And a lord like Lambley probably had a footman or twelve following at a discreet distance at all times.
She should just enjoy this unexpected moment for what it was, and forget about all it was not and could never be.
“I enjoyed your party,” she said casually, as she inspected a box of parsnips. “For a reclusive misanthrope, you certainly surround yourself with a prodigious number of people.”
He slanted her a quelling glare. “I didn’t say I liked them.”
“You didn’t have to.” She dropped her parsnips into the basket. “You wouldn’t care so much about your guests’ enjoyment if you didn’t also care about your guests.”
He looked adorably disgruntled. “Clearly you mistake what it means to be a gentleman, who must do as is right, regardless of his feelings on the matter.”
“Mm-hm.”
Clearly the Duke of Lambley was as soft on the inside as he was hard on the outside. A puff pasty, whose crusty exterior hid nothing more alarming than warm, gooey sweetness. And he didn’t even realize it.
She paused before a stand of carrots.
“Select whatever you like,” commanded the duke. “I’ll have it sent to your home.”
“You’ll do nothing of the sort.” She lifted her chin to glare at him. “I don’t want or need your charity.”
The opposite. She wanted to prove herself capable. Prove herself worthy. To him, and to herself, and to the world.
“As the lady wishes,” he said without argument, in a tone that might have been accompanied by a careless shrug if the Perfect Gentleman were not so great a personage as a duke.
She forced her attention to the carrots, lest she stare at him in consternation all day.
The night butler was right. Lambley was wealthy and privileged and thought he knew best, and he tried to use all of that to help others.
He was assertive, but not demanding. He’d informed her of his plan rather than ask her opinion of it, but when she declined his offer, he immediately respected her decision with no further questions or arguments to sway her mind.
His mystified expression indicated he had no ideawhyshe would turn down his money—perhaps no one else ever had—but he made no attempt to encroach upon her autonomy.
That, or he was too consumed trying to control his own life to bother unnecessarily with hers.
“What?” he demanded.
She widened her eyes at him. “I was thinking about your night butler.”
“He’s married,” Lambley said flatly.
She ignored this. “Mr. Fairfax said you gave him that position without him asking for it. That it hadn’t even occurred to him you might be in the market for such a thing.”
“He’s marriedandhe lacks imagination.”
“He says you’re a very good friend.”
Lambley grunted and flicked a hand toward the carrots. “Are you buying any of these or not?”
She tried not to smile. “Are you actively trying to give the impression you do not work well with others?”
He looked aghast. “Why would I want to work with others?”
Her laugh caught in her throat when she realized he wasn’t playing along with her jest, but deadly serious.
“Now I know you’re teasing,” she said uncertainly. One could not rule from on high all of the time, unless one was a king... or perhaps a duke? “Surely there are people not in your employ whom you rely on, someone who would make a good partner, or part of a... team...”
He looked more horrified at each word she spoke.
