Her mother gave her a hard stare. “So, theMadeleine—”
“TheBrayson,” Amity corrected.
“TheBrayson,” her mother repeated with distaste,“is for one night only?”
Amity sighed. “Unless the duke wants me to make them for his ... his bride in the future.”
“You don’t sound as if that would please you.”
“No,” Amity admitted, “I guess it wouldn’t delight me. Nevertheless, I will do so if it means Rare Confectionery remains in good standing with the uppermost layer of London’s society.”
Her mother rolled her eyes. “Don’t be worried about that young woman—”
“That younglady, Mother, is an earl’s daughter. You saw how she rounded up her ... her pack of wolves.”
This made Felicity laugh. “Hardly wolves.”
Amity started to laugh too, recalling what her mother had said. “You called them sheep — to their faces.”
“I did, didn’t I?”
“I accused Lady Madeleine of eating broxy,” Amity told her.
Her mother laughed harder. “No wonder she looked so put out.”
“She told those ladies our confections had made her ill.”
Her mother’s good humor died at once. “That’s a foul lie to spread.”
“Which is why I hope the Duke of Pelham will rein her in like a willful horse that needs to be tamed.”
Her mother nodded. “Still, with a lawyer almost in the family, we shall sue her for defamation if need be.”
Not her mother, too!“So litigious,” Amity protested. Besides, it was now somewhat in doubt as to whether Jeremy would be part of their family, but she kept that to herself. There had been enough drama in their lives for one day.
“You had best hope your duke convinces that sour puss to pull in her claws, or I shall speak to Mr. Cole about our rights. And I shall pen a letter to her parents.
Amity went to the stove and wordlessly poured milk into a pan.
“A cup of chocolate, Mother?”
“Of course, dear. What else?”
***
AS SOON AS LADY MADELEINEand her chaperone climbed into his carriage, Henry smelled her lavender fragrance, and he thought of Amity and her chocolates.
That wasn’t how it was supposed to work. He had it all cocked up and backward. Yet it was the truth. Chocolate, vanilla, orange, and coffee, they all made him think of Amity. Now, even Madeleine and her lavender scent brought Amity to mind, eating chocolates together, laughing in his drawing room.
He had better get the worst of the evening over.
Before he could broach the topic, however, Madeleine said, “Remember the chocolates we had at Lady Peabody’s dinner party?”
It was as if she’d read his thoughts. “Why, yes. In fact, I was hoping to speak with you about Rare Confectionery.”
She frowned. “How strange. I hope you are going to tell me that you think it is a most disagreeable shop run by the most irritating females. If you ever met them, you would agree.”
“Met them? You do recall the eldest Miss Rare-Foure and one of her sisters were at the Peabodys’ party, do you not?”
