Unlike many women, she had not kept her thoughts to herself, even upon their first meeting. He supposed he should admire a female who didn’t hide her opinions behind her fan or the façade of polite indifference.
Occasionally, however, he wished she would retreat behind the façade if only for a few minutes. One didn’t need to proclaim about everything and often in a negative fashion. Still, he hoped it was an active mind that made her so ... assertive.
Henry left his home on St. James Place, got out of his coach precisely where Old Bond Street met New Bond Street, and took a deep breath of air. He coughed — for London was a tad smoky at the best of times. And he loved it anyway, while thoroughly appreciating a couple months, twice a year, at his country estate in Kent. There, he could take in the delightfully refreshing sea air. Why, he could practically see Calais from his third-floor chamber!
The confectionery door had an attached bell that tinkled in a pretty fashion as he entered, exactly as it had done the day before. He hoped today he didn’t have to chase the chocolatier down the street.
As he strode in, the aroma of chocolate swirled around him. After tasting Miss Rare-Foure’s confections in his carriage, he now knew how delectable chocolate could be, and the rich, decadent scent caused his tongue to twitch. Soon, he knew he would be enjoying the taste again.
His gaze swept the bright, tidy shop where everything was either white or the brilliant blue of the Rare Confectionery stamp that was on the tins and bags. To his left was a glass display case of shelves filled with paper-lined trays of sweets, and behind it was space for those who worked there. In front of him was another glass case of confectionery, and to his right, anchored to the wall was shelf upon shelf of attractive tins of various sizes. He assumed these all contained selected chocolates and toffee should one wish to purchase more than a small sackful.
Connected to the end of the first glass case was a marble counter at which one of the young women he’d encountered the day before was presently stationed. By a familial resemblance, Henry assumed she was related to the chocolatier, most likely a sister.
Looking up with a smile upon her face, her eyes widened with recognition. When she took a deep breath, drawing his gaze to her expansive bosom, he thought she was going to shriek. Happily, she released the breath and seemed to regain her sensibilities.
“My Grace,” she began, and her face turned red as a freshly boiled beet. “I meanYourGrace, my lord.”
“Just one of the two will do,” he said, approaching the counter. “Are you also a Miss Rare-Foure?”
She gaped at him. “I am.” Then, in the space of a second, she disappeared from view.
Startled, Henry waited, but she did not reappear. He coughed to clear his throat, hoping to conjure her return. It didn’t work.Had she fainted at the notion of his presence in the shop?
He peered over the top of counter. Down, on the other side, the young woman was curtseying deeply, and where her apron fell forward, she gave him an excellent view of the generous upper swell of her breasts and the enticing dark valley between.
“Please,” he said, trying to avert his eyes and failing, “would you stand?”
“Yes, Your Grace.” And she did.
“Is your sister here?” he asked.
“Which one?”
“The chocolate maker,” he clarified, thinking that would have been obvious.
“Oh, yes. She is, and hard at work, too. I believe she has been working on the special chocolate for your party. By the way, don’t you think my sister should attend the party?”
He hadn’t actually given it a thought. Now that he did, he supposed, it would be a good idea. He would pay well for the confections, and it would add the right gravitas to the occasion to have Miss Rare-Foure present them on a silver tray.
“I believe, miss, you are quite correct.”
The young woman smiled, which was very becoming. Neither too toothy, nor gummy. She behaved precisely as a sweet sister should.
Until she rounded her full lips and let loose a shrill whistling sound.
He took a startled step back unable to stop himself.What on earth?
Directly after, the curtain that was draped across an opening toward the rear of the shop parted swiftly, and the chocolatier appeared.
“Charlotte, why did you—?” Then she spied him and halted. By the look upon her face, she was embarrassed for her sister.
“My lord,” she said, offering a curtsey, not nearly as deep as her sister’s, nor with the same accompanying view. “I apologize. My sister has quite the way of expressing her delight.”
“That is no matter,” Henry explained. As long as he didn’t have to encounter her delightveryoften, he didn’t mind in the least.
“His Grace is here to invite you to his party,” her sister blurted.
That was a blatant lie, but he decided to go along with it. “Yes, I was remiss in not extending an invitation to you when last we spoke. Obviously, it isyourcreation andyoushould present it to Lady Madeleine.”
