“Even with Lady Madeleine’s astonishing looks, you prefer your chocolatier?”
Sadly, Madeleine hadonlyher looks to interest Henry. Besides, even in that regard, Amity outshone the earl’s daughter. Waverly must be blind not to have noticed. “Did youseeher at my party?”
Waverly refilled his glass and Henry’s. “Who? Which one?”
“Miss Rare-Foure, you dolt! She is the most perfect woman. At the party, she was like a sweet sprite in her green silk, her hair burnished and gleaming, looking so soft I itched to touch it. And her sincere eyes, earnest and lively. Why, I cannot wait to look into them again. And her sweet, supple lips, the perfect shape for kissing...,” he trailed off at his friend’s expression.
Waverly’s mouth had fallen open, then he coughed. “You must, as I said, go to her at once. No more grand gestures and intricate plans. You can see how those have failed.”
Henry sighed. “I cannot say my plans failed, as they brought me to Rare Confectionery. But you’re right, I should speak with her as soon as possible. I could send word to their country home and see if I get a reply.”
Waverly was shaking his head, humming his disapproval of such a tepid tactic.
Henry shrugged. “Or I could pack a bag and leave first thing in the morning.”
“Here, here.” Waverly raised his glass and set it back down. “Why do you still look doubtful? You are the bloody Duke of Pelham!”
“That is the problem. If Miss Rare-Foure becomes my duchess, all she can do with her life is represent me and my position with grace. That and promise not to engage in anything scandalous.”
Waverly lifted an eyebrow. “And why is that a problem? Do you foresee her becoming scandalous? Go on, tell me the details.”
Henry sent him a withering look. “She would have to give up anything to do with Rare Confectionery and restrict herself to charity work. The closest she could get to chocolates would be placing them in a food basket for the poor, if that is even done. I’m sure the destitute prefer hearty bread and meat.”
“I suppose you had better give Miss Rare-Foure that choice, don’t you?” Again, Waverly raised his glass of spirits. “You or chocolate? That is the question.”
Chapter Twenty
Amity didn’t like thesudden change in her sisters ever since Jeremy had arrived. After she’d agreed to marry him, they had walked hand-in-hand back to her family’s modest country house to tell everyone.
First, he’d been closeted with her father for a few minutes, and when they reappeared, Armand Foure was slapping Jeremy on the back, looking pleased, and her mother had smiled when she heard the news. However, Charlotte had appeared more hesitant, and Beatrice gave the barest nod of approval.
Later, upstairs in the large bedroom shared by her two younger sisters, Amity asked them, “What on earth has soured your milk?”
“What do you mean?” Charlotte asked, plainly stalling.
Forthright Beatrice shrugged casually. Apparently, she had something to say, but as it was probably harsh, she had decided to be uncharacteristically cautious.
