The tin lid of the jar clattered to the ground as she jumped, turning to him with a scowl. He bent to pick the lid up and handed it to her.
“What do you think of this?” she asked, presenting the jar to him.
Inside was a pale-yellow gel. An herbal scent of pine, earth, and beeswax cooled his nostrils.
“Rosemary,” Seth read the label. “It’s not really feminine, is it? What’s wrong with the scent you use now?”
“It’s not forme.” She reached for the jar, but he held it above her grasp and her lips pulled into a pout.
Seth read the label and grinned.
“Were you about to purchasepomadefor me, Miss Cooper?”
“No.” Her face fell further. “It’s out of budget.”
“Just as well.” He clucked. “A lady shouldneverpurchase a personal gift for a gentleman she fancies.”
“Ah, but you’re not a gentleman,” she reminded him, a corner of her mouth lifted.
“You didn’t deny that you fancy me.” He leaned over her. “Will you apply it for me? Run your fingers through my hair?”
“If you’re nice,” she said coyly.
“I can bequitenice, Miss Cooper.” He lowered his voice. “But I think you’ll like me more when I’m wicked.”
“I would like you more if you wouldn’t talk like this in public.”
“You’re right, I’ll talk more like this in private.” Her breath caught as he whispered, “Youreallylike that.”
Decision made, he turned to the shopkeeper and called out, “Mrs. Mercer, I’m taking this!”
Cassandra hid her burning face in her bonnet as heads turned in their direction.
“I thought that was you, Seth Reeves.” Mrs. Mercer shuffled over to them. A middle-aged woman with hair more white than blonde reached up to hold his head in her hands, twisting it gently to get a good look at him.
“I’d recognize those eyes anywhere. My, how you’ve grown! Come home for the Hunting Party, have you? If you ever tire of mingling with those blue bloods, you’re always welcome to your old room behind the bakery. It could do with some dusting, but—”
Mrs. Mercer’s gaze trailed to Cassandra. She dropped Seth’s face and held her hands up. “Oh! Goodness me, you must be the missus! And me, pawing at your husband!” She curtsied. “I’m Mrs. Mercer, a married woman myself. It’s lovely to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Reeves.”
Cassandra’s face flushed, and she floundered for a response.
“This is Miss Cassandra Cooper,” Seth corrected. “A dear friend.”
Mrs. Mercer glanced between them with a knowing smile.
“You’d better snatch her up quick, before she realizes what a rascal you are.” She turned to Cassandra. “The first time we met, he was in my husband’s bakery stealing biscuits. Found him in the alleyway, covered in crumbs!”
“Mr. Reeves committed acrime?” Cassandra feigned disbelief.
“I promise to pay upfront this time,” Seth cut in. He reached for his pocket book, but the shopkeeper swatted his hands away.
“Don’t bother. This one is on the house. I’ll consider it an investment.” Her eyes shifted from Seth to Cassandra, and she winked. “I have a feeling you’ll be back to buy more.”
Pomade wrapped and placed in Cassandra’s reticule, they re-entered the streets. Cassandra stood on her toes to look around. “It appears we’ve been abandoned.”
Seth offered her his arm and led them in the direction he had last seen their friends. “Their abandonment certainly seemed intentional. Lady Jasmine dragged Cooper away by the throat.”
“That’s Jasmine. I asked her for asimpledistraction.” Cassandra huffed. “Knowing her, she’ll have followed her nose to food. We should start there.”
