Page 18 of The Duke's Spinster


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“I believe these are yours to distribute as you see fit.”

She passed him a spoon. “Let’s just enjoy them all together.” With that, they dug into the treats, both grinning like small children.

“You seem to have a favorite,” Boudicca said, motioning to the white coffee.

“Really? How can you tell?”

“Well, the white coffee used to be in the middle of the table, and for the past few minutes your spoon has hovered sentry over it.”

Wesley belted a short laugh. “I’ve been caught.” He took another bite. “It’s sublime. I can’t believe I’ve never had it before. That may have something to do with the fact that I only ever get one flavor when I visit Gunter’s.” After one more spoonful, he slid it back to the middle of the table. “Here, have some.”

“It is delicious. Thank you, but it’s all yours. My favorite is the pistachio.”

After a few more bites, a shadow fell on the table.

“Wesley, good to see you.” The deep voice held an almost mocking tone. Or perhaps it was more amused. They did have nine ices in front of them.

Wesley looked up slowly. “Samuel. Didn’t know you would be here today.”

He returned in jest, “Didn’t get my weekly schedule again, did you?”

“Probably tucked away under my to-be-read files.”

Samuel grinned. “Did you have lunch today?”

“Yes. Already come and gone just like every other day.”

“I only ask because…” he swept his hand over the table.

Boudicca held her breath. She didn’t know what she expected Wesley to say. He was a duke, so he would likely say something appropriate. Then again, it was a close friend that had issued the light challenge. Would he be the duke or the friend at this moment? Would transparency or propriety win out? He had options for what to say.The lady loves ices. We were hungry. Gotta try ‘em all. They’re not mine.She knew it was silly to have ordered all nine flavors, but she wasn’t quite sure how silly it was.

But he just raised his spoon, saying, “This is for all those evenings when my mother limited us to only one flavor.”

Samuel chuckled, tipped his head, and walked away.

It was a little bit adorable how Wesley had toasted her choice for all nine ices.

“Was your mother cruel or kind to limit your treats?” she found herself asking, wanting to know him just a little bit more.

“Always kind.” He stuck his spoon into the white coffee hummingbird. “She was a loving mother. I have no complaints out of the ordinary.”

“Just the ordinary complaints then. That consists of…?”

“Typical tantrum-worthy decisions. One flavor of ice,” he nodded to the plates, “early bedtimes, no playing with weapons in the house.” He laughed. “All wise decisions. What is your mother like?”

“She’s passed on now.”

“I’m sorry.”

Boudicca could feel a sting of tears at her eyes, but she marshaled her emotions. “It was a few years ago now. It’s all right.” But he reached out to touch her hand anyway. It was…about the least he could do, especially publicly. But it’s not as if she wanted him to do more. And it wasn’t as if she were baring her soul. “It’s fine.” She forced her voice to perk up. “She was a wonderful mother. Sounds…similar to yours.” Similar, but not quite the same. They had played with weapons inside. Many of them, in fact. But, she wasn’t going to share that yet.

“Well, to good mothers then.” He raised his spoon again. “May we appreciate their rules when they knew best and break them when we think we know better.”

She chuckled as she lifted her full spoon in the air. “To mothers,” she murmured.

It was at that moment that they both noticed Lord Grimsley making his exit. Just as the old man passed their table, they overheard him say to his companion, “Full moon tonight, isn’t it?”

And then they buckled in laughter.