Her head still bowed, she couldn’t observe his reaction.
“I see you weren’t misleading me when you attempted to prepare me regarding your appetite for ices.”
Finally, she looked up. She knew a smirk was troubling the corner of her mouth, but she played it off. “I do love a good treat.” She felt a little twinge of guilt knowing the exorbitant cost of the desserts and knowing full well that they wouldn’t eat them all, but she pushed it aside. “And since I don’t frequent Gunter’s often enough, I thought it would be best to maximize my time here.”
“They’re all for you, then?”
“Of course, you thought I’d share?”
“I…”
She couldn’t hold in the chuckle. “Of course, I’ll allow you a couple of bites.”
“A couple of bites or a couple of bowls?”
“We shall see,” she said archly. “I do hope at least one of them comes in the shape of a bird. Preferably a hummingbird. I just love their dag—darling beaks.” She almost said that she loved their dagger-like beaks.
“The last time I was here I received my chocolate ice in the shape of a lion.”
“You say that with some pride,” she said slyly. “Do you think that they match the animals to the patrons, Your Grace?” Boudicca cast a furtive glance around the room, taking note of anyone with a freshly served ice in front of them.
“Just Wesley.”
“Where is he seated?”
“No,” he chuckled, “you can simply call me Wesley now. May I call you Boudicca?”
The distraction to keep her eyes roaming the room hopefully hid a small blush crawling up her neck. It felt too intimate to call him Wesley, and to allow him to call her by her Christian name.But something inside her revolted against her pride and charged toward familiarity. It would be nice to be on a first name basis with the duke—Wesley. The name meandered through her mind, and her lips puckered softly at the thought of sounding it out.
“Yes, that’s fine,” she quipped. To regain her equilibrium, she focused on something shallow, “What about my question, though?”
“Ah…let me see,” Wesley leaned forward unnecessarily, arms on the table, hands closer to her own. She dare not move for fear of advancing rather than retreating. There was a magnetism about him. Something she wanted to understand. It was his ulterior motives, she kept telling herself. But his scent of sandalwood wafting over her blurred her thoughts.
“Well, unless you know something about our dear old, wrinkly Lord Grimsley that I don’t, I’d say the ices do not reflect the customer.”
Boudicca grew giddy at the game they had started to play. “Oh really? Do tell, what shape is before him?”
“I cannot say. You must take a look for yourself.” He grinned.
“I can’t look now. He’ll know we’re talking about him.” How she wanted to turn her head and look, but she also didn’t want to embarrass the kind man.
“You can look. No one’s watching us.”
“I can’t,” she almost squealed, feeling the embarrassment for herself.
But then he dropped the gauntlet. “I dare you.”
She just stared at him.
Did he know about her sisters and their dares? How had he found out? The only people to know of the dare were the four sisters. Surely, they hadn’t been overheard. And without question, none of the four would have let their secret dare slip. Oh, how mortified she would be if Wesley found out about the dare.
As she studied his face, there was no guile. It was just a silly tease. But one she was not going to pass up.
She tilted her body forward and whispered, “All right. I’ll look.” Dropping her shoulder, she peered behind her at Lord Grimsley’s table. There in front of the hunched over old man with a round face and no hair was the shape of his ice: a wolf.
She casually turned her head back to Wesley and gave him a full smile. “I dare say you are correct. The shape is arbitrary.”
And just as she finished saying that, nine shapes were brought to their table. Among the nine, a bird was placed in front of Wesley. He pushed it toward her.
