“Dear God! Don’t let my sister ever hear you say that.”
“No, I wouldn’t dream of it.” Then suddenly, he froze.
“Pelham!” exclaimed a well-dressed man who came to a stop in front of them.
“Waverly,” the duke returned with less enthusiasm, sounding strangely cautious.
They shook hands while the other man’s glance came to rest on Amity, a questioning look upon his face.
“Miss Rare-Foure,” the duke said, “This is the Viscount Waverly.”
She curtsied.
“Waverly, this is Miss Rare-Foure, whose family owns Rare Confectionery.”
The viscount inclined his head to her. “I believe you mentioned her before,” he remarked, his eyes dancing with merriment, raising Amity’s curiosity.
The Duke of Pelham had mentioned her to his friend?
“Yet you failed to give an accurate account of her loveliness,” Lord Waverly added.
Even knowing the man was being a shameless flatterer, Amity felt her cheeks warm.
“Waverly,” the duke warned, “don’t try your charm upon Miss Rare-Foure. She has a better head on her shoulder than to fall for your nonsense.”
Did he really think effusive words about her appearance to be nonsense?
“Careful, Pelham,” the viscount said. “By the frown upon her face, you may have insulted Miss Rare-Foure. There is nothing nonsensical about her beauty.”
Hating how this man had read her expression so easily, she suddenly spoke up. “If you gentlemen will excuse me, I must get back to my shop. I have work to do this afternoon.”
“Let me walk you back,” the duke offered.
“No, thank you. As I said, I have work to do, and I cannot be entertaining you at the same time.” It sounded unkind, but she was suddenly feeling crabby. “I am not a lady of leisure, you understand.”
The duke’s eyes widened, and his friend coughed behind his glove, which she suspected was to hide his laughter. The other meaning for the term struck her a second later — as the very trollop her mother had spoken of.
“Good day, my lords.” With her cheeks flaming scarlet, she snatched her packages from the duke’s hands, curtsied to them both, and hurried away. Thankfully, he didn’t come after her.
***
HENRY TURNED BACK TOhis friend who was openly laughing now Miss Rare-Foure had dashed off in a state of mortification. That hadn’t gone well.
“Why do I think that was all your fault?” Henry asked. “And stop your insipid braying, dammit.”
“I say, she’s a feisty thing, isn’t she?” Daniel Waverly noted. “Putting you in your place about keeping her from her work and making mention of the offensive class of lightskirts. Lady of leisure, indeed.” He began to chuckle again.
“She didn’t intend to,” Henry said, feeling irritated. “Anyway, what did you mean with your flattery and telling her I’d spoken of her to you. You embarrassed her.”
“You should have joined in and praised her. Every woman in London is touchy about her looks since Lady Madeleine made her debut. But I daresay I would enjoy the sweetness of your chocolatier, plus the benefits.”
“Are you trying to make me defend her honor and punch your beak?”
Waverly shook his head. “I meant only the benefit of an unlimited supply of quality chocolate. I’ve had the pleasure of a sweet from Rare Confectionery. I don’t know what you thought I meant, but I believe you are getting caught up in the romantic notion of being with a shopkeeper’s daughter.”
They had started walking in the opposite direction to which the chocolatier had dashed off.
“She isnota shopkeeper’s daughter. Well, I suppose technically she is, but she’s much more than that,” Henry insisted. “She’s a chemist and an artist and a chef — all for confectionery. Moreover, she’s very smart and amusing. In short, she’s good company.”
