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“Madam.” He bowed. “At last, a true palate shows itself in this blighted hall.”
“If it’s not too much trouble,” Felicity continued, once all had calmed, “might a few greens accompany the courses? I have no thoughts as to such beyond a lowly bean or two. I fear such are far beneath the talents of a man of your experience, but perhaps a carrot dish or beets?”
“Whatever your heart desires, Your Grace,” the chef bowed again, with greater pomp and circumstance. “I am your servant, your humble servant, in all things. I will produce only the most delicious, most healthful accompaniments ofles haricots vertes almondaise, les petits pois au buerre, gratin au—”
“That will be all, Louveteau.” The duke stood, against all protocol, which dictated the presiding lady at the table signal the end of the meal; O’Mara reached out and yanked him down into his seat. They exchanged volatile looks, and Lowell shrugged and slid down in his seat like a crotchety child.
As she was the only female of rank in the room, Felicity supposed it fell to her to decide the meal was concluded. She rose, a footman at her back in a heartbeat to slide her chair away. “Mrs. Birks, we will take tea in the drawing room, please. If you would be good enough to serve the dessert with it, Monsieur?”
The assemblage descended into curtsies and bows, like a field of wheat blowing in the wind. She stood and waited at her place. The duke rose, and wonder of wonders, his lips (Those Lips!) parted in the merest impression of a smile, revealing a hint of attractive teeth (teeth, attractive?), and the servants seemed to sway as one, to sigh as one, as His Grace approached her and held out his arm, as Felicity took it, and as they processed out of the room.
* * *
Alfred accepted Coburn’s obeisance as he closed the door behind them.
“Will Miss O’Mara not be joining us?” Miss Templeton fussed with the tea things and rearranged the plates of tart and custard.
“She is off on an errand.” Glamouring the poor, unfortunate animal Alfred would be riding in the next day or so as he escorted Miss Templeton around his grounds.
She set down the teapot with a testy thump. “This is improper. It’s all improper, of course, but this compounds it. Your staff marches to the beat of their own drum, disappearing here, running off there.”
“I allow them to obey their instincts.”
“What ails their necks? Not only Mr. Coburn and Mr. Bates, but all down to the laundry girls persist in bending their heads at odd angles. It cannot be comfortable.”
“May I have a cup of tea?” He put on what he thought was a humble mien.
“Are you unwell? You look bilious. I cannot be surprised, given the excess of meat at table.” She poured a cup, without the usual flair found in ladies—not that he’d say so. “Lemon? Cream?” She put both in without waiting for his preference and all but thrust the cup and saucer into his hands. She moved away.
He set the concoction down on the tea cart and let her peruse and handle the china dogs decorating the mantle. “We are a carnivorous lot,” he allowed. “But I believe Monsieur le Chef will bow to your dictates.”
She mumbled something, and he was at her side. “Do excuse me, I didn’t quite catch that.” Which he had, naturally. Something about her dictates not being here to be bowed to for long…
“Never mind.” Miss Templeton went back to the teapot and poured herself a cup. He rearranged the china dogs.
“There is only one outcome,” he said. “You have been in Lowell Hall, unchaperoned, overnight, and into this day. You know the ways of our world.”
“There must be some compensation made for a maiden who has been taken against her will.”
“You are a maiden.” He had never thought otherwise, but to hear her say it…
A blush not so much rose as exploded across her face. He watched it spread down to her décolletage. “Be that as it may,” she said, “I cannot fathom why you, of all people, found it necessary to abduct a female in order to force her into matrimony.”
He subtly scented the air. Still no fear, to his amazement; there was frustration to a great degree and curiosity tinged with something he could not put a finger on. “I, of all people?”
“One of the highest in the land, superseded only by the royal family.” She looked at him, incredulous. “How is it that you have not been betrothed from the cradle, to one such as you?”
“None such as I suited me. You,” he purred, “suit me.”
“I do not understand how you know this, as you know nothing about me.” She crossed her arms beneath her bosom, and he came over somewhat light-headed.
“Then do tell me about yourself, Miss Templeton.” He gestured to the sofa behind the tea cart, and they both sat. “I assume you are accomplished as all young ladies are?”
“I am not so young. As Mr. Bates’s précis demonstrated.”
“It matters little in my world.” Avera amoriswould ever be fertile until such time as the need for progeny abated. “Are you fond of embroidery?”
“I am not. Nor am I at my best on the dance floor, as you well know.”
