“No, but I hoped you would come up with something more extraordinary than that. I am missing the duchess’s garden party for this, you know.”
Simon liked her answer. Not only was she willing to have an adventure, but she’d thrown off a party hosted by a duchess to do so.
She was not a typical lady of the ton.
“Are you taking me to a bookshop?” She made her second guess.
“Not today. Is that something you would enjoy?”
“Always.” For the next part of the drive, the two of them exchanged names of their favorite authors. He’d discovered a new author and, although he kept himself busy most of the time, made a point to allow himself twenty minutes to read each night before bed.
“I wouldn’t have imagined you as a man who enjoyed fiction.”
“Even a d— Even a butler requires occasional entertainment.”
“What else do butlers do for entertainment?” Her voice hitched as though she’d just reminded herself of the night before.
Simon squeezed her hand. “We’ll have to think of something.”
It wasn’t at all what he’d intended to say.
When they arrived at their destination, Miss Faraday stiffened. Simon had pulled the cart to a halt beneath a sign that read One-Legged Duck.
“An inn?” Her tone was a startled one. Her eyes were wide, but her lips were parted and her cheeks flushed. Hers was an expression that signified a combination of outrage but also anticipation. Simon held up his hands innocently.
“A pub,” he said.
It was also an inn, but that wasn’t why he’d brought her there. The timing, at this point in their conversation, had perhaps not been ideal.
She sat silent for a moment and then he felt her relax beside him.
“A pub,” she repeated.
“Which,” Simon added, “also happens to be an inn.”
A Regency “Date”
Simon took advantage of Violet’s astonishment to hurry around and assist her off the vehicle. She could have done it herself, but whether he was a duke or a butler, he was first a gentleman.
“Do you like ale?”
“I’ve only tasted it a few times.” She made a face and allowed him to lead her toward the entrance. Sounds of merriment drifted onto the street when he pulled the door open.
Propriety and respectability, and perhaps country living, had kept her on far too short of a leash for far too long.
“I’m happy to give it a second chance, though.” She glanced in his direction, and her smile nearly caused him to trip.
“Cockfield.” The owner, O’Malley, waved them toward an open table near one of the windows. “Ale for you and the lady?” Although the hour was early, the tavern was nearly half full.
O’Malley kept a loyal clientele by serving liquor that was never watered down and hearty portions of consistently excellent meals prepared by Mrs. O’Malley.
“Please.” Simon pulled a chair out for Violet and then lowered himself onto the one beside her. The One-Legged Duck was one of the rare establishments he could visit in London without being recognized as a duke. Likely, even if any of the patrons did recognize him, it would not have mattered. His position made no difference to them. So, in bringing Violet here, he needn’t worry about breaking the terms of the bet.
These people made their livings with their sweat and blood, honestly, dishonestly, and often somewhere in-between.
Sensing Miss Faraday was feeling a little out of place, Simon dropped his arm along the back of her chair and squeezed her shoulder. When she didn’t shrug him off, he watched her take it all in until one of the barmaids approached and placed two filled tankards on the table before them.
“Will you be eating?” He recognized the maid, whose bosom threatened to spill out of a bodice that was likely two sizes too small. He’d flirted with her in the past but was glad he had never taken her up on anything other than drinks and a good meal.
