Page 68 of Cocky August Rake

Not that he made his intentions obvious.

He merely informed Mrs. Smith that he required the coach himself, then generously offered to alter his route to accommodate Miss Darling’s stop as well.

Which was how Reginald came to be standing outside a small dressmaker’s shop on Bond Street as his coach disappeared into traffic.

He rocked back on his heels, rather pleased with himself.

Rose stared after it.

Only when it vanished from sight did she turn to him, disbelief written plainly across her face.

“You dismissed him.”

“I did no such thing.” Reginald glanced along the street and frowned. “He mentioned something about another errand.”

“So he simply abandoned you. His employer. On Bond Street.”

Reginald stared down the walk at the row of shops. “It is a savage wilderness.”

Rose’s lovely mouth twitched.

Reginald forced his gaze from her and glanced along the street. “I believe there’s a confectioner’s shop a few doors down.”

Rose looked up at him. “You noticed it?”

“I noticed you noticing it.” Reginald offered his arm. “Shall we investigate?”’

“Is that a real question?”

Something almost girlish lit her eyes, and as she dropped her hand on his sleeve, Reginald found himself far more interested in that than in anything the shop might sell.

They’d passed only a few storefronts when the scent of baked goods drifted toward them from the confectioner’s door.

Inside, the air was rich with cacao, hot milk, sugar, and warm pastry. Rose slowed and closed her eyes as she breathed it in, and the pleasure on her face sent a quiet spark of satisfaction through Reginald.

He guided her toward a vacant table near the window, though her attention had already strayed to the glass case filled with pastries, cakes, and sugar-dusted candies. Before either could settle on any of them, a young woman in a spotless white apron approached their table.

“Tea?” she asked. “Or chocolate?”

“Chocolate,” Reginald answered.

Rose glanced at him. “You truly like it?”

“I do.”

“Odd. I’ve been imagining you eating nothing but salt beef and hard biscuits.”

“I’ve had my share of those,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate something sweet now and again.”

“Good.” Rose’s eyes gleamed. “I should hate to think all those years at sea ruined your appetite.”

“Quite the opposite.”

The attendant cleared her throat softly.

Rose looked away, while Reginald ordered both of them chocolate, and more pastries than Rose thought reasonable.

“Did you have any sweets on the ship, then?” she asked once they were alone.