Rosemary shrugged, a look of faux innocence on her face. She was deliberately lengthening this conversation.
“What would you call it?”
Finn smirked. “A refined palate?”
Daphne stared hard at her friend, who blatantly avoided eye contact.Coward!
Well, Daphne would nip Rosemary’s misconception in the bud. Daphne did not have any interest in Finn... apart from his sticky toffee pudding recipe.
“Despite her love of coffee, Rosemary is really good with dessert testing.” Daphne sent Rosemary a grin. “She’s my first taste tester apart from Jack, so I think she would give you some great advice.” Daphne waved between the two of them. “Maybe the two of you should make a... date of it? Besides, her musical tastes are suspect too.”
“Hey.” Rosemary frowned, but the glint in her eyes proved she caught on to Daphne’s subterfuge.
But Finn’s reaction was more interesting. Mr. Flirt’s expression lost all humor for a split second, attention darting from Rosemary back to Daphne before morphing into nonchalance. What was that about? A chink in the philanderer’s armor? Hmm...
She ignored the curiosity.
A little.
“Now, let’s not berate rhythmic diversity, Miss Austen.” He tsked. “Someone would think you’re a music snob.”
Daphne’s smile dissolved into a glare, but before she could rally, Finn continued, “And, I’ve met Jack. Fine fellow. Not a whit of snobbery. In fact, I hired him.”
“Hired him?” Daphne’s body stilled. Not to mention the fact he’d implied she was a snob... twice. “My brother is working for you?”
“Will be.” Finn’s grin crooked a little higher as he backed toward the door. “But since you’re not afraid of healthy competition, it shouldn’t be a problem, right?”
“Of course not.” Daphne straightened. “In fact, Jack could very well be my spy.”
With another chuckle, Finn doffed an imaginary hat and, thankfully, sheathed those eyes of his with his sunglasses once again, before backing toward the door. “In that case, I’ll be sure to feed him plenty of abominable tea.”
The door closed behind him, and Rosemary turned on Daphne. “You like him.”
Daphne propped both fists on her hips in full nonverbal declaration against such an idea. “The only things I like about him are his hair and his baking. And especially the way he exits a room.”
“Mm-hmm.” Rosemary picked up a pot of hot water and stepped back toward the far table of guests enjoying morning tea. “You keep telling yourself that.”
“What do you mean?”
Rosemary shook her head, her smile almost conciliatory. “Henry Tilney is your favorite Austen hero.” Her brows rose. “If I remember correctly, it’s because of his... charm.”
“No. It’s because of his good heart and sense of humor,” she called after Rosemary, and then dropped down on the stool. “Not charm,” she repeated, more to herself, but Mrs. Dawson glanced up from her blueberry banana muffin and nodded.
“A good heart and sense of humor are very charming.” She raised a brown brow, which stood in stark contrast to her very fake blonde hair. “An accent helps.”
Daphne released a long sigh and then... crammed a handful of chocolate chips in her mouth. She did not like Finn Dashwood. And she certainly didn’t have time to think about whether he had a good heart or not. She had a tea shop to save.
As if in response to her thoughts, the piping from the back made a little creaking noise.
And time was running out.
Chapter 7
@TeaThymeNC:Some occasions call for a touch of grace and refinement. Others... well, let’s just say “hearty” has its place. But which would you trust for a restful and classically enjoyable event or experience? #TeaOverTaters #SomeOfUsHaveStandards #NoShadeAllStew
Comments:
@JackAustenPhotography:I dunno, Daph... I’ve seen you throw hands over the last biscuit. That wasn’t very refined.
