“You first,” he said when she held it out to him.
After nibbling the edge of it, she held it out to him, hoping he would let her place it on his palm. He didn’t. Next thing she knew, one of his hands had clasped her wrist, guiding her fingertips to his mouth.
Gracious! Her fingers were against the lips of the Duke of Pelham!
Her stomach decided to celebrate the strangely exciting sensation with a pleasant swoop.
“Mm,” he said. “That one I like very much, but I thought we’d already decided on plain chocolate in the shape of a flower. That, however, has possibilities. Would you be able to do the milk swirl in the shape of anMor aB?”
Amity sat up straight for his suggestion was brilliant.How easy!
“Yes, and instead of creating a brand-new confection, I could make anything you like into the shape of her initial.
“No, no,” he said, looking into the tin at the bottom layer. “That would be cheating.”
The whole tin was cheating, so he might as well give up with tasting them. Except one. She searched until she found it. This was the last chocolate she had made the previous night and hadn’t even tasted. Beatrice had declared herself unable to nibble another, and Amity had been too full or, maybe, too heartsick, to eat it. Now, she feared it would be bland and perhaps overly sweet.
Handing a plain discus of chocolate to him, she said, “You first, my lord, and if you like it, I will make it flower-shaped.”
Biting it in half, a strange expression came over his face as the flavors melted on his tongue. He frowned, and her spirits sank.
“It is different than anything I’ve ever had,” he admitted.
Amity had a jolt of hope. That was a start, unless he meant different in a bad way.
He sniffed the remaining morsel. “The scents are floral and something warm, too.”
“Do you like it?” she asked, and then she amended her words. “No, do you love it?”
“I do not love it.”
Amity’s confidence plummeted until he added, “But I don’t have to. Lady Madeleine does. It is sweet enough and has something about it that does, in fact, make me think of her.”
“Lavender,” she whispered, for the young lady’s fragrance had lingered in the shop after she’d left, a little too heavily for Amity’s liking.
“Yes,” he exclaimed, looking shocked. “Thatisher fragrance.”
“There’s something else,” she added, wondering if he could guess.
“The chocolate is very sweet, which I know she will love, and there is something rich about it, beyond the floral.”
“Do you wish to guess or shall I tell you?” she asked.
“Tell me,” he commanded.
“Vanilla bean.”
He stared at her. “Miss Rare-Foure, I think you are brilliant.”
She couldn’t help smiling as happiness infused her body. “Thank you, my lord.”
“And do you like it? No, do you love it?” he asked, echoing her words.
She shrugged. “I haven’t tasted it.”
“What?” He evidently found that astonishing.
“I mean, I tasted it while blending, but I haven’t since it cooled and hardened.”
