As soon as he stepped through the archway, the lovely Lady Felicity hopped up from the settee and held out a basket covered with a checkered cloth that matched the soft green muslin of her gown. “Lord Wakefield, I am so glad to see you fully recovered. I most heartily apologize and swear on my own life that I had no idea those biscuits were so horrid. Please forgive me.”
His heart rose the barest bit from the pit into which it had plummeted, lifting his spirits along with it. “Forgive you?”
“Yes—you see, when Walters told me you had come to call, I lost my place in the recipe and left out a great deal of the sugar that would have made those treats much tastier.”
“That is debatable,” her sister said, barely loud enough for him to hear. “Lemon biscuits appear to be the bane of her existence.”
“Merry!” Felicity stamped her foot so hard that her golden curls bounced. She turned back to him, completely mesmerizing with her adorably humble sincerity. “Do ignore her, please.” She lifted the cloth from the basket. “I brought you a basket of delicious chocolate cakes to atone for my mistake. I promise they are my very best. Everyone loves them.” She cast a pointed look back at her sister. “Even Merry likes them.”
“They are quite tasty,” Merry said with an approving nod.
He eyed the basket, wanting to believe they were a peace offering after the earlier debacle. Not that he would blame her for trying to poison him. He deserved it. Accepting the gift, he offered her an apologetic smile. “You came here in haste,” he said, then wondered if he shouldn’t have said that.
“I had to.” She gave the barest shrug. “I feared you would believe Ihad tried to poison you.”
He forced a laugh that almost sounded authentic. “How silly, my lady. I would never have suspected you capable of such a thing.” Well, he had—but since he deserved it, in his opinion, she was guilt-free. He offered her a contrite bow. “But if you had chosen to punish me, I would not have blamed you. After all, I had not expounded on my circumstances.” He nodded for her to return to her seat. “Mrs. Pepperhill is bringing tea. We can enjoy these lovely cakes together. Would you and Lady Merry do me the honor? Have you got time?” While it was still well within calling hours, it was later in the afternoon.
Visibly relieved, Felicity rejoined her sister on the settee and nodded. “We would love to. Would we not, Merry?”
“Indeed.” Merry grinned. “And we shall have Felicity eat the first cake, so we might gauge her reaction.”
“Merry!”
Drake laughed, unable to keep from it. The sisters brought the brightness of hope into his day. “I am so thankful you called. The two of you bring laughter that has sorely been needed.”
Yateston and Mrs. Pepperhill hurried into the room, each bearing trays. Drake noticed the housekeeper had removed her kitchen kerchief and patted her gray hair into a bun of somber submission that befitted her station.
“Your favorites, my lord,” she said with a pointed look his way. “Cress-and-butter sandwiches.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Pepperhill, and Lady Felicity brought us some of her delicious chocolate cakes to enjoy as well.” He nodded at the basket on the large, round table that had once been used for extravagantly proper teas when they could afford them.
The housekeeper curtsied. “I shall fetch more plates and silver, my lord.”
“Shall I pour, my lord?” Yateston asked.
“Yes, Yateston. Thank you.”
“Cress-and-butter sandwiches are your favorites, my lord?” Felicity asked, her expression sweet and guileless, but he was still uneasy. Cress-and-butter sandwiches were known as poor man’s fare.
“Indeed, they are.” Or, at least, they had become his favorites because that was often all there was to eat with his tea.
“Mine too.” Her smile grew, lighting up her face. “Sometimes, simple is best. Do you not agree?”
“Most definitely.” He released the breath he had held as Yateston served the ladies, then handed him a cup of tea.
Mrs. Pepperhill hurried back in with a mismatched set of saucers and silverware. It couldn’t be helped. It was all they had left. She deftly served the cakes and then hurried back out of the room, leaving Yateston behind to manage any further needs.
Just as Drake sank his fork into the rich, tender cake with its swirl of white icing, Merry cleared her throat. “Felicity first,” she said with an evil grin.
“You are a troll,” Felicity told her, then held her plate higher, cut herself a bite, and popped it into her mouth. “Mmm. Delicious, if I do say so myself.”
Doing his best not to laugh, Drake took a taste, then groaned. “Oh, my dear Lady Felicity. This cake rivals the deliciousness of your coddled eggs and soldiers.”
The way her eyes danced and the lovely blush across her cheeks made him wonder if compliments to her were rare. “I am so very glad you like them,” she said. “I truly hated the biscuit debacle. Oh my goodness, those were awful. How humiliating.”
“I spat mine into the lily pot,” Merry said. “I fear it may kill them.”
Felicity glared at her. “I am beginning to regret bringing you.”
