“What can I get you?”
“Tea for two please, Mrs. Lamb,” he said, pulling out a chair, and lowering Beth into it, using a hand on her shoulder to force her onto the seat. It was like folding a piece of ten-day-old bread. “Plus three Banbury cakes, and two cinnamon biscuits, please.”
“We cannot eat all that!”
“I can,” he said, taking the seat opposite, but ready to regain his feet should she attempt to flee.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, while Leo let her spleen cool. He came here often, because it was a small tea shop that was not usually busy, and it served the best cinnamon biscuits in London. He was not above sending a footman to collect a dozen upon occasion. Looking around him, he noted four other people seated, and no one he recognized. Excellent, they could converse without anyone overhearing.
“Now, I want you to tell me what is going on with you, and do not lie, or try and fob me off with this business about me still loving the evil breaker of hearts, as you are not terribly good at it.”
“No.” She had her arms folded like a child, and Leo couldn’t help it, he laughed.
“Do not laugh at me!”
“I always thought of you as the most contained, composed person I knew. It turns out I was wrong. In fact, you have a temper, and are not the cool, collected woman society sees. I like it.”
The smile fell from Leo’s face as the first tear fell.
