Chapter Six

A s they approached the tearoom, Lady Euphemia pointed to the sign above it, saying, "Gunter's was once called The Pot and the Pineapple. It started as a confectionery store. They have kept the pineapple sign as an homage to their roots."

Malcolm opened the door for them, and the ladies entered first. As he stepped inside, he heard Lady Euphemia already being greeted by name.

"Ah, Lady Effie. What a pleasure to see you again. You did not come to Gunter's last Season," a woman said.

"I was enjoying a bit of freedom, Mrs. Taylor. I am making my come-out this year and wanted to spend a final, blissful summer at Shadowcrest with my animals. How is Priscilla doing?"

"Fit as a fiddle, my lady," Mrs. Taylor replied. She looked to him and Ada. "Lady Effie found a litter of kittens and convinced me to take one a few years ago. Then poor Priscilla broke one of her legs, and Lady Effie took the cat in herself and nursed my Priscilla back to good health."

Lady Euphemia smiled fondly at the memory. "It was hard to give her back, truth be told. Not only did I fall in love with Priscilla, but Daffy did, as well."

"Who is Daffy?" Ada inquired.

"My cat. Mama made Daffy stay in my bedchamber when you came to tea yesterday. Usually, Daffy is given run of the house and enjoys coming to tea and begging for bits of sandwiches or sweets. We are all immune to her. Except for the captain. He has a soft spot for Daffy and will slip her food throughout tea You must come again so you can meet her."

Malcolm could only imagine how his mother would have reacted if a cat had come strolling into the drawing room during tea yesterday. Frankly, he would not have been comfortable with the idea himself. Animals did not belong in a house.

"This is His Grace, the Duke of Waterbury, Mrs. Taylor. And his sister, Lady Ada. Mrs. Taylor has worked at Gunter's for many years."

The woman smiled. "Longer than you have been in existence, my lady," she teased.

He was amazed at how comfortable the two seemed with one another. They came from such different worlds, and yet it would not have surprised him if Lady Euphemia asked this woman to tea the next day. Malcolm also noted how the women had not addressed her as Euphemia but Effie. He believed allowing such familiarity with those outside her class was a mistake on Lady Euphemia's part. Or that of her mother, who had allowed for it to take place in the first place. Malcolm deepened his resolve not to be taken in by her charm.

"It is a pleasure to meet the both of you, Your Grace. My lady. Come, let me seat you."

"Is Billie here?" asked Lady Euphemia. "I would like her to wait on us if possible."

"She is working today, my lady. I will make certain to let her know you are here."

Mrs. Taylor led them to a round table which seated four. Malcolm held out Lady Euphemia's chair for her before seating his sister.

"You know these workers by name," Ada marveled.

"We have come here frequently over the years," Lady Euphemia said. "It would be wrong to patronize an establishment and not form a personal connection with them. Mama taught us to be friendly to everyone and treat others as we wished to be treated. I would hope others might be interested in me, and I am always interested in them."

A woman in her mid-thirties approached them, with dark hair and a huge smile. "Lady Effie. It is so good you have come back to town. Mrs. Taylor tells me it is your come-out Season. How did that happen? It seems only yesterday when you were eight years of age and begging to learn the history of Gunter's from Mr. Gunter himself."

"It is lovely to see you again, Billie. Since it is my come-out, I am thinking of having the cake to be served at the ball given in my honor made here at Gunter's."

"We would be delighted to bake it for you, my lady. Anything for you and your lovely mother," Billie replied. "Shall I tell you about our menu?"

"Please do so," Ada said, her eyes bright with interest.

They made their selections, with recommendations from Billie. Lady Euphemia asked that their ices be held until they had finished their light luncheon.

When Billie left, Ada asked, "What do you know about this place?"

"I told you it started as a confectionery. Mr. Negri, an Italian pastry chef, opened it a little over fifty years ago. He produced wet and dry sweetmeats. You may not know much about confections, but they require time and precision, as well as talent. I believe confectioners are artists working with food. They have all kinds of specialized pans and also use many kinds of molds to create shapes for their ices, jellied fruits, and candies."

Lady Effie smiled. "Mr. Gunter became Mr. Negri's business partner and later the sole owner. I have met his son Robert, and he is responsible for making many of the confections and ices which are served these days. Robert is desperate to travel to Paris and live there so he can learn all about French baking. He plans to do so once this terrible war with Bonaparte ends."

Malcolm said little because he was a bit overwhelmed by Lady Euphemia's ebullient nature and knowledge. At the same time, he also thought her a breath of fresh air. As she and Ada talked, he worried that it was dangerous being around her. It was important for him to select the right kind of woman as his duchess, and a marriage of convenience was the only one he would consider. He could not afford to admit to his growing interest in her. After all, he had declared to himself that she was not duchess material.

So why did he seem to hang on every word that came from her tempting mouth?

Their food arrived, a plate of delicious sandwiches, accompanied by fruit and salads. As they ate, Lady Euphemia told them a little more about Gunter's catering business.

"Several hostesses in town use Gunter's to cater the food for their balls. Cook would be hurt if we did so with the ball James and Sophie will hold in my honor, but even she will not mind if my cake comes from Gunter's. It will help the kitchen staff concentrate on other items which will be served."

He couldn't help but think Lady Euphemia might be the only girl making her come-out that worried about her household's kitchens being overworked. Who thought of such things?

This woman.

"When will your ball be held?" Ada asked.

"I am not certain," Lady Euphemia admitted. "I have not even thought to ask. As I told you yesterday, I am not hunting for a husband. I am only doing my come-out because Mama has looked forward to me making it. Since I am the last of her girls, I did not want to deny her this pleasure. What about you? When will your mother hold your come-out ball, Lady Ada?"

Ada bit her lip. "I do not know. Mama has not mentioned this to me. I was not aware this was a custom."

"Not every family hosts one," Lady Euphemia said, trying to be helpful.

Malcolm hated to see his sister looking hurt and immediately volunteered, "If Mama has not already planned one for you, Ada, then I will host it," he proclaimed. "The ball will happen."

"You would do that for me, Waterbury?" Ada asked, tears glistening in her eyes. "Oh, thank you so much!"

"What are big brothers for?" he said, trying to lighten the mood.

Billie approached their table again. "Are you ready for your ices? You are in for a real treat, my lady," she said to Ada, who beamed at the woman.

"We are ready, Billie," his sister replied. "And very much looking forward to what you bring us."

Again, Malcolm was amazed at his sister. She was responding to others and not hanging her head, avoiding contact. She was initiating conversation. She was not the quiet wallflower he had anticipated she would be during the upcoming Season. Instead, she was like a caterpillar, gnawing its way from the cocoon which had protected it, spreading her wings to become the beautiful butterfly she always had been.

Pride filled him as he continued to watch her. Listen to her as she talked with Lady Euphemia. This relationship of a few days had already changed his sister in ways too immeasurable to count. His worries of Ada not being able to attract a gentleman—much less a decent one who would treat her kindly—now evaporated.

While they waited for their ices to arrive, Lady Euphemia told them of some of the extravagant sweets the tearoom sold—cakes, pastries, and various confections. She even told of being adventuresome and trying some of the ices with meats inside them.

Ada frowned. "That does not sound good at all."

Her friend laughed. "They weren't. Mama told me they wouldn't be, but Pippa and I had to try it. We never did after that initial time. Mama said we had ordered it and must finish our dish. Everyone else had lovely ices of vanilla, white coffee, or pistachio. It was one of the only times my sisters did not offer to share with me."

Billie arrived with their ices, which were in small dishes. He had chosen bergamot, while Ada had been intrigued by pineapple. Lady Euphemia had gone with a mix of chocolate and vanilla. It had not been one of the menu items recited by Billie, but he supposed a longtime customer would be awarded special favors.

Ada took one bite and sighed. "Oh, it is even better than I imagined it could taste."

Malcolm dipped his spoon into his selection and relished the cold pop of flavor in his mouth. "This is very good. Very good."

"I am glad you both are enjoying the flavors you selected. You must come back and try the lavender. Or maple. Or elderflower. They are also favorites of mine."

"We can do that, Waterbury, can't we?" his sister pleaded.

He swallowed his bite. "We will definitely return to Gunter's, Ada," he confirmed, causing both girls to giggle.

"You simply must try this chocolate, Lady Ada," Lady Euphemia insisted.

His sister dipped her spoon into her friend's dish and sampled a bite. "Oh, that is heavenly."

Lady Euphemia looked to him. "You, too, Your Grace. I am happy to share with you. I think I have sampled every flavor Gunter's has to offer over the years. Their chocolate is unbelievable. I am a fiend when it comes to chocolate," she confided, her eyes dancing with mischief.

"I have never had chocolate," he told her, seeing the look of astonishment on her face.

"No... chocolate. Ever?" she asked, a quizzical look on her face.

"Never."

She smiled broadly. "Then this will definitely be a treat."

Scooping her spoon into her ice, she brought up a bite of chocolate to his mouth. A shot of lust shot through him as he opened his mouth, accepting it.

In that moment, it all mixed together. Chocolate. Desire.

And Lady Euphemia . . .

The sweetness melted in his mouth, but it did nothing to cool his ardor. He could not have this. This woman was Ada's friend. He must look elsewhere—because this woman would only wed for love.

And Malcolm did not think he had any to give.

Oh, he did love his sister, but that was the extent of it. He had never felt much of anything for his parents. He spent so little time in his father's company, the duke had been a stranger to him. Mama fussed over him, but it was as if she did so because she was supposed to. As Ada had put it to him, Mama most likely did not like children and only went through the motions of pretending to care for her offspring.

No one had ever offered him a treat such as chocolate. No one had wanted to be his friend. Share their innermost thoughts and listen to his own. Malcolm was gifted academically and athletically. Everything came to him with ease.

Except the notion of love.

"Thank you, my lady," he said brusquely as she returned her spoon to her bowl and dipped it into the ice again, bringing it to her mouth.

The thought of the spoon sliding across her tongue nearly did him in. He wanted his tongue stroking hers.

Malcolm cursed under his breath and then found Lady Euphemia gazing at him.

She giggled.

"Did you hear that?" he asked.

"I could be polite and tell you I did not, but having used that word a time or two myself, I recognized it right away."

"You . . . have used it yourself?"

She shrugged. "It is a word my cousin Caleb has spoken upon occasion when he is frustrated. The last time I heard it, he and I were repairing a fence. We both used it," she confided. "And it was called for, I assure you. That fence was as surly as they come."

Malcolm could not believe she cursed. Or repaired fences. Or had lips which tempted him more than he could say.

"What flavors will we try next time?" Ada asked brightly, looking up from the ice which had thankfully consumed her attention. "That is, if there is a next time," she said, hope in her eyes.

"Of course, there will be a next time," Lady Euphemia assured her. "We will have all my sisters and cousins come with us once they arrive in town. Before the Season starts. I cannot wait for you to meet them. We have ever so much fun."

"You will need an escort," he said gruffly. "I can offer you mine."

"Oh, that is not necessary, Your Grace," Lady Euphemia replied. "Why, look around you. You can see women dine here alone. It is perfectly appropriate. The same is true for a lady and gentleman. Gunter's is the only respectable public place where a couple can go in public without it causing harm to a lady's reputation. I believe I mentioned that to you before."

She laughed again, and it was as if it were music to his ears. "We might need the loan of your carriage, though, Your Grace, with so many ladies. Lady Ada and myself. My three sisters and two cousins. Mama. That is eight in all." Frowning a moment, she added, "And Her Grace, of course. We would not wish to leave your mother out from our outing."

Ada's face reddened. "I am not certain Mama would like coming here," she said quietly.

Malcolm watched Lady Euphemia contemplate Ada's words. "We can talk about this in the carriage, where we have more privacy."

They finished their ices, and he signed the bill, asking it go directly to his solicitor, who took care of such matters for him.

Billie and Mrs. Taylor thanked them for coming in and both said they looked forward to seeing the three of them again very soon.

Malcolm guided them back to his ducal carriage and gave his coachman instructions to return to the Duke of Seaton's townhouse.

Inside the vehicle, Ada burst into tears as Lady Euphemia slipped an arm about her friend and urged, "Please, tell me what is going on, Ada."

He noticed she used Ada's name without her title but did not want to correct her with his sister in distress.

"It is Mama. She is not . . . well . . . she is . . ."

"She is uncomfortable with you forming a fast friendship with my family and me," Lady Euphemia sagely said.

His sister nodded, clearly miserable. "I cannot understand why. Status is important to Mama. She... well, she is surprised your mother gave up her title and prestige to wed a man with neither."

Lady Euphemia stroked Ada's hair. "Mama was more interested in love and happiness than those things," she explained. "The same holds true for my entire family. You have met the captain. He worships Mama. You will not find a more loyal and intelligent man than our captain. My mother deserves all the happiness she can find after surviving a loveless first marriage. For Mama, a lofty title is unimportant. It is who you are—what your character consists of—that trumps your standing in Polite Society."

Malcolm took in all Lady Euphemia said—and wondered if he had ever been happy.

Could the right woman bring this magic into his life?

Perhaps the woman before him—who was all wrong to become his duchess—might be the right one to save him.