Putting the kettle on, Beatrice tamped down the notion that there was something vaguely improper about the empty shop, the single man, their isolation, and the back room. However, she didn’t feel threatened by him for an instant. On more than one occasion in the past, she’d experienced trepidation when a couple came in directly before she closed and seemed to linger too long. She was glad Charlotte kept the cash box under the counter out of sight. Mr. Carson, however, gave her no such alarming notions, neither for their profits, nor for her person.
Behind her she heard loud sucking sounds and smiled to herself.
“You were saying, Mr. Carson?”
He chomped a few moments and swallowed. “I wonder if your ads could say something along the lines of ‘The Duke of Pelham’s favorite confectionery.’”
Beatrice nodded. “That’s certainly not a lie. I shall mention it to Father.”
“I suppose you don’t want to say ‘Our chocolate is made by a duchess,’ or something like that, in order to bring people in for the sheer novelty.”
That made her laugh as she scooped tea into the teapot. “No, I don’t think my sister would want that. She was worried from the start whether she might tarnish the duke’s polished veneer, and turn all of London’stontopsy-turvy with the massive infraction of a nobleman marrying a shopkeeper’s daughter. Amity was expecting the ladies to faint and the men to bear arms against her.”
Mr. Carson didn’t dismiss it out of hand. “I can see where she might have had concerns. Maybe if her husband had been a lesser aristocrat, her fears might have come true. But from what I understand, one can hardly shun a duke, or at least, one does so at one’s peril. He is just about the biggest toad in the puddle.”
She blinked at him.The biggest toad?It was as good a way as any, she supposed, to describe a duke.
“You’re correct. Even the other noblemen must be careful not to offend him. That’s why our angering the duke was such a dreadful thing to do. He truly could destroy your plans if he put a bad word in for you, as assuredly he can help us all with a good one.”
After pouring the boiling water into the brown Betty, she tugged the knitted blue cozy over it, and left the tea to steep while she retrieved two mugs and set them on the copper counter beside the stove.
“No refined cups and saucers here, Mr. Carson,” she told him. “And only one stool.”
“Please, sit if you like,” he offered. “I’m happy to stand.”
Ignoring his offer —she was a shopgirl but not a barbarian who would take the single stool— she reached into the cold box for milk and poured some into the bottom of both cups.
“I definitely will speak with my father about our advertisements. Perhaps you would like to come to dinner some evening soon and tell him more of your ideas. I take it you have some knowledge, maybe even expertise.”
He shrugged his broad shoulders, and she sighed inwardly. If he didn’t need a titled lady, she might find herself attempting to catch his interest. He had surely caught hers.
“I helped my uncle with the advertising for his business.”
“Railroad ads?” she asked.
He nodded. “Assuring customers of their safety and comfort on the line. That type of thing.” Switching topics, he asked, “May I pour for such a gracious lady?”
“Thank you,” she said, batting her eyelids with extra speed, hoping he was joking the way she was. However, his intense gaze looked utterly serious.
“That is exactly the offer you should make to a lady if you visit her at her home.”
He coughed. “I know that. I remember your sister’s lessons, Miss Rare-Foure. I am offering in earnest.” With that, he picked up the teapot and poured into both cups without splashing a drop.
“Well done,” she said.
“And sugar, my lady?”
She froze as did he.
“Sorry, I’m practicing.” Without waiting for an answer, he scooped a teaspoonful into each of their cups and stirred.
“Better to wait for an answer,my lord,” she mocked him, lifting her mug in salute. “Some people take no sugar or a hundred spoonfuls. You might have ruined my tea.”
“True.” He lifted his cup and tapped it against hers. “And how many do you normally take?’
“Exactly one,” she admitted.
“Ah ha!” he exclaimed, sending her a smug grin.
