Fair warning, London! Do not, we repeat, DO NOT get between
Lady Man-Eater and the orange cream.
It’s been reported that several Langham Hall footmen made that mistake
and are now reported missing.
Truthfully reported,
The Midnight Cryer
The duke had escorted Thea into the dining room and had insisted she sit next to him. He sat at the head of the table with Thea to his left. Across from her, Will’s beautiful auburn-haired cousin Claire claimed the seat.
The duke reached over and clasped Claire’s hand. “I’m glad you and Pembrooke could come this evening. Let me introduce you to Theodora, the Countess of Eanruig, Will’s friend and a guest at Langham Hall.”
The woman’s eyebrows shot straight skyward as if a highwayman held them up.
The duke’s generous smile did little to calm the swarm of butterflies in Thea’s stomach.
“Theodora, this is my niece and Will’s cousin Claire, the Marchioness of Pembrooke.”
“I’m delighted to meet you, my lady,” Thea offered. Another decision of etiquette loomed before her. Should she stand and offer a proper curtsey or just sit and nod?
Before she was forced to make a choice, Claire took the decision from her hands. With a swoosh of her skirts, the marchioness rounded the table. Once she reached Thea’s side, Claire leaned in and hugged her.
Startled and unsure what to do, Thea stood. Claire pulled away and took her gloved hands in hers. “I’m so happy to meet you.” She leaned and whispered in Thea’s ear, “There’s no one like William.” Before Thea could ask her meaning, the marchioness continued, “When did you arrive in London?”
“Today,” Thea answered.
Claire turned to her uncle. “I would have rushed over here sooner if I’d known Will had invited a friend.” She squeezed Thea’s hand. “He’s never invited anyone to dinner before, much less asked them to stay at Langham Hall.”
The duke leaned back in his chair. “Ginny and I met Thea right before you and Pembrooke arrived.”
The auburn beauty’s mouth formed a perfect O in surprise. Then the most breathtaking smile lit her face. “I’ll come for tea soon. You’ll have to tell me all about how you and William became friends.”
“That would be lovely, Lady Pembrooke.” Denial sat on the tip of her tongue. What would she be refuting? That they were friends? If she were brave, she’d announce she didn’t want anyone to be disappointed but she and Will had no plans for marriage. Instead, she took the safe route and kept quiet.
“Call me Claire.” She winked at Thea.
“Would you call me Thea?” she asked softly. “It’s a pet name my grandfather gave me. It’s short for Theodora.”
The smile that graced Claire’s lips bespoke kindness, and Thea’s hopes rose that they’d forge a true friendship. This was the woman Will said she’d have a lot in common with.
A handsome man with raven-colored hair stood at Claire’s side. The marchioness affectionately placed her hand on his arm. “Alex, this is … Will’s new friend and mine, Thea, the Countess of Eanruig.” Still touching the man’s arm, Claire turned to Thea. “This is my husband, Alex, the Marquess of Pembrooke.”
Whereas, the Earl of Somerton was handsome in a light, brilliant way with his blond hair and turquoise eyes, the marquess’s dark, rugged beauty derived from his perfect features and aquiline nose. His startling gray eyes flashed with humor. “It’s lovely to meet you, Thea.” He took her gloved hand and bowed over it.
“Likewise, my lord,” she answered. Her gaze swept down the table to Will, who was staring at her. She swallowed her unease. Hopefully, she hadn’t done anything to embarrass him or her, but it was difficult to know precisely how to act and what to do. Suddenly, he grinned in his familiar impish manner, and she relaxed.
The men in his family were fabulously attractive, but when he bestowed a grin like that her way, he was the most handsome man in the room.
“We should sit,” Claire said. “The first course is about to be served.”
Behind each chair, a handsome liveried footman stood waiting to serve them or retrieve their dirty dishes. She’d never seen such a huge number of staff whose sole purpose was to ensure that every person had a plate of food in front of them or a full glass of wine. Even though her grandfather was a duke, they never dined in such a formal fashion. Once he became sick, their eating habits had become routine. Mrs. Miles would place the dishes on the table, and Thea would serve the duke. In his final months, Thea would feed him like a toddler since he was incapable of holding a fork or a spoon, let alone cut his own meat.
Conversations erupted around the table. McCalpin, Will’s brother, sat to Thea’s left, but his attention was devoted to Stella who sat to his left. The duke became enthralled in a discussion with Pembrooke about an upcoming vote in the House of Lords, and Claire listened intently. Every few moments, she’d glance Thea’s way and smile.
The duke and duchess and their hospitality were all so welcoming, and they were kind just as William had promised. Warmth and affection surrounded the family. It reminded her of all she’d missed growing up with only her grandfather.
But tonight, Thea couldn’t shake the feeling she was truly an outsider. A better description might be an imposter, since she doubted she’d deserved to be a part of such an illustrious group of people.
Immediately, those ever-present feelings of shame and remorse flooded her. Many a day, she wished she’d spent more time with her grandfather, even if he didn’t remember her. He was the only family she’d had, and when he’d passed, she hadn’t grieved like a normal granddaughter.
Selfishly, she’d only felt relief that it was finally over. Discreetly, she glanced around the table. The family’s regard for one another was apparent in how they spoke and laughed with an ease that was astounding. If anyone within the Cavensham family had fallen ill, she had little doubt that the entire clan would rally and support one another in the care for their loved one.
The bond they shared slowly surrounded her like a fog rolling in from the sea, and she’d never felt so alone. She wasn’t a part of this family who had deep ties to one another.
She came from another world—one without anyone to call her own.
As if Will sensed what she was thinking, he caught her gaze and that charming lopsided grin appeared, making her forget her loneliness, at least for a moment.
The footman served the first course of a carrot and leek soup. Her gaze flew to Claire’s hands to gauge whether she should remove her gloves or leave them on. Unfortunately, the marchioness’s hands were tucked in her lap, and the long sleeves of her gown were the only part of her arms visible. Thea chanced a glance down the rest of the table. All the women’s hands were hidden from view as they each waited to be served.
Heat assaulted her cheeks. Once the duke raised his spoon, they would commence eating. She had an even chance of getting this piece of dining etiquette correct. She glanced at her table setting, and her stomach fell. She’d never seen so many spoons, forks, and knives, some in the oddest of shapes and sizes. What purpose did a spoon laid sideways at the top of the plate have in the course of a meal? Her heartbeat accelerated, and she placed her hand over her heart in a futile effort to calm herself.
“Is something wrong?” the duke whispered as he leaned close.
“Y-yes.…” A slight shudder of embarrassment tore another piece of her confidence.
“What, my dear?” The faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes evaporated.
“I’ve never attended such a formal dinner, and I’m not certain what to do.” She waited for the look of disdain to twist his face, but the duke’s brow furrowed into neat lines. “Do I take off my gloves to eat?”
As she waited for his answer, the room grew deathly quiet. They all were waiting for him to lift his spoon. He bent toward her until mere inches separated them. “What would you like to do?”
She bit her lip. There was little doubt now. She was a complete ignorant goose. “I want to do what’s right and not embarrass Will.”
With a discreet nod, he answered, “Watch my Ginny. She’ll teach us both.”
Slowly, he drew away and lifted his glass. “Duchess, will you raise your glass with mine? I want to give you, and only you, a toast.”
The duchess lifted her glass with a gloveless hand and smiled endearingly at her husband.
“To the woman who rules my heart. May we never forget what’s worth remembering, and may we forget what is best forgotten.” His words of love flowed like silk across the room.
With a blinding smile, the duchess dipped her head in acknowledgment. They both took a drink, and the collective sighs around the table were a clear indication the rest of the family was as affected as Thea at the loving words.
Afterward, the duke lifted his spoon and took a sip. Renewed conversations obliterated the earlier quiet at the duke’s toast. Thea quickly slipped off her gloves and laid them across her lap.
Like a hawk, she had discreetly watched which spoon the duke picked up, then followed suit. As long as she watched him eat, she would not embarrass Will or herself.
After her first sip of soup, she whispered, “Thank you, Your Grace.”
“You’re most welcome, Theodora,” he whispered. “It’d be my greatest joy to make a toast at the end of the meal for you, only if you’re comfortable with it.”
She glanced at Will who was deep in discussion with his sister and his mother. He appeared comfortable, happy even. Thea’s spirits flattened. If she felt unease with Will’s family, then she shuddered to think about the ton. It took years to teach children the manners expected in society. She only had a week.
“I’m not certain that’s for the best.” She didn’t say it aloud, but deep down, she was terrified she’d have to stand in response and say a few words. She didn’t want any more attention drawn to herself, not tonight. She simply wanted to enjoy the rest of the evening, then go to bed.
“I see.” The duke’s deep voice lowered to the softest whisper. “Of course, whatever you wish. Perhaps after all this nasty business with the committee is over, you’ll feel differently.”
Surely, she’d just imagined the sympathy that tinted the duke’s words. McCalpin turned slightly in his chair and asked a question of his father. The hum of their voices floated in the air, but all she could concentrate on was the silverware while stealing glances down the table. The entire family enjoyed themselves with an ease she longed for but doubted she’d ever attain.
As the meal proceeded without any other faux pas, Thea allowed herself to relax and joined the conversation. Claire kept her entertained with stories of Will as a boy. Soon, the handsome footman assigned to serve her placed a dessert plate filled with Shrewsbury cakes, fresh sliced strawberries, and orange cream. The whole dish was elegant and decadent at the same time.
Thea stole a peek at Claire who picked up the spoon at the top of the plate, leaving all the other silver untouched. Delicately, she took one bite of the pudding.
Thea mimicked her movements and scooped up a small spoonful of the orange cream. As heaven melted on her tongue, she fell head over heels in love with the dainty delicacy. It reminded her of blancmange only with a more sweet and citrusy flavor. She took one more bite and groaned. Her eyes flew wide open at the sound.
The duke winked at her. “Theodora, you suffer from the same affliction that I do.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
Claire leaned forward as if divulging a state secret. “He possesses a notorious sweet tooth.”
The priceless twist in the duke’s mouth revealed his contrariness. “Since you’ve married Pembrooke, you’re such a telltale.” The admonishment in the duke’s voice was muted by his affection for his niece. “I’ll sneak another serving, and Theodora will share in the conspiracy. Connoisseurs of sweets must band together when under attack.”
Thea giggled and Claire joined her. The marchioness’s laughter echoed like the merriest of bells ringing through the room.
For the first time that evening, she felt truly as if she belonged.
Thea finished her last bite of cream and instantly wanted more of the light but decadent dish. It had been years since she’d ever had anything so fluffy and unique in taste. She glanced behind her and discovered the footman who waited on her had disappeared.
As the other footmen collected the dirty plates, Thea rose and took her plate to the buffet table where a bowl of the delicious cream rested. A huge mound of orange fluff loomed like a tower before her in a silver bowl, inviting her to take more. She spooned a dollop on her plate.
The liveried footman assigned to her approached and cleared his throat. “I apologize, my lady, but I had to remove the plates. If you’ll sit, I’ll see you have another serving.”
The gentle clatter of the footmen collecting plates disappeared entirely. Slowly, the lively conversations around the table stopped. Only deadly quiet, the kind that foretold disaster smothered the room and eerily surrounded her. She kept her gaze fixed on the footman. Thankfully, he was tall enough that he hid her from sight. She prayed no one saw her, but the sudden heat on her neck gave her ample warning. Indeed, they all—the duke and duchess and their family along with the servants—had to be staring at her.
“I … I thought it easier if I served myself.” She cringed at the defensiveness in her tone.
“I’m … not really certain what to do, my lady.” The footman’s gaze darted to the butler Pitts as if seeking direction.
Perhaps if she looked at Pitts, he might direct her how to get out this predicament too.
What was she doing?
Her stomach knotted at the thought that the Langham servants would spread rumors she was wild and uncouth. What if The Midnight Cryer printed what had happened here, and the committee read it? Every lesson she’d learned from Stella had disappeared the instant she set foot in the city.
She glimpsed several other footmen standing awkwardly by with dirty plates in their hands.
How could she have been so stupid to get up from the table for another serving of dessert? That’s why everyone had a footman standing behind them. Ducal families and their guests didn’t serve themselves food.
If she couldn’t master the simple rules of dining with a family who welcomed her with open arms, then how in God’s name could she manage a committee of white-wigged men who would decide her future and more importantly, the future of Ladykyrk?
If a meteor fell from the sky that second and swallowed her whole, she’d declare it a simple mercy.
From nowhere, a man’s hand gently took the plate from her hand. He placed it on the buffet, then gently tried to pry the spoon from her hand.
“Theodora, let go,” he whispered.
At the sound of Will’s voice, the vise clenching her chest broke free, and she could breathe again. Instantly, she released the spoon, then fisted her trembling hand to hide her humiliation.
He turned slightly until he faced the footmen before her. “There’s nothing to be concerned about.” His deep voice echoed around the room. “We’re perfectly capable of serving ourselves.” He lifted an eyebrow as if he considered the matter closed to discussion. “We have two feet.”
Stella turned in her chair and nodded. “And two arms.”
“Plus, two hands,” Edith added.
By now, Will’s attention had returned to her. “It’s all right.” His comforting tone did little to tide her embarrassment.
It was anything but all right. She’d made a fool out of herself, and she had no escape except to turn around and face everyone. Finally, she stood a little straighter and tilted her chin. There was little else she could do but make a quick exit, then nurse her self-inflicted wounds by herself.
“Thea, come sit,” Stella coaxed. “One of the footmen will bring you another serving.”
She slowly turned to face the entire room. It was worse than she expected. The footmen stared at her with wide eyes like she was some hideous creature rising from a dark Scottish loch.
“I find I’m not hungry anymore. Please pardon my lack of decorum. I should have known better.” She focused on a Greek statute of Hermes in the corner of the room. Without making eye contact with any of the family or Will, she dipped a slight curtsey. “Thank you for your hospitality. If you’ll excuse me?”
Thea didn’t wait for a response. As if Hermes had lent her his winged feet, she ran from the room with a speed she’d never possessed in her life.
Will’s teasing of his sister, Emma, died to nothing when the room quieted, and everyone’s attention turned to Theodora helping herself at the buffet. The footmen were the first to notice, since it was their job to help the Langham guests with anything their heart desired. It was his mother’s edict, and the footmen followed it without question. Slowly, like a wave rolling toward the shore, the family, one by one, noticed the footmen staring, then turned their attention to Thea.
When her cheeks grew redder, everything within Will locked in place, and he couldn’t move. He could only stare as her humiliation became apparent to everyone. Finally, whatever force held him broke, and his heart pounded for him to save her. His family might not know of her penchant to blush when she was embarrassed, but he was well aware of it. At that moment, her entire body seemed to be radiating a scorching heat from her mortification. This was exactly what she hadn’t wanted to happen.
Will stood, and his mother briefly grabbed his hand. The empathy in her eyes encouraged him to hurry to Theodora’s side. When Thea ran from the room, Will didn’t take his leave from the others. He simply followed.
She had such a speed in her step that he had a hard time catching her. Thankfully, Pitts stood guard at the dining room entrance leading to the massive hallway of the main floor.
When Will reach his side, the gentle butler pointed down the hallway. “The library.”
In seconds, he stood next to the bird’s-eye maple table that commanded the middle of the room. “Thea?”
Only silence greeted him. As his gaze swept the room, Will found her escape. The floor-to-ceiling French doors to Langham Park, the extensive garden and acreage attached to Langham Hall, stood open. He quickly crossed the room and stood outside on the stone balcony overlooking the park.
Creatures serenaded one another in a cacophony of buzzes and chirps, while the sweet songs of male nightingales filled the night with notes designed to seduce their mates. But through the noise, he heard another sound that didn’t belong.
“Bloody hell.” The words tripped over a voice husky from tears. A hiccupping sob followed a sniffle. “What a fool and an oaf.”
He’d found her. Relieved, he inhaled then let out the deep breath slowly. Like a thief, he silently but swiftly descended the marble stairs and turned right where a recessed alcove lay partially hidden from view. He stood at the entrance. “Thea?”
Hidden in the shadows, she leaned against the wall with her arms wrapped around her waist. The defensive gesture broke his reserve, and he stepped forward. As if coming out of a trance, her gaze flew to his, and she stepped away from the wall.
“I take exception to the words fool and oaf to describe my friend. I’ll have you know her character is sterling, and she’s of the highest caliber in society.” He closed the distance between them but didn’t touch her. Not in her current mood, though his arms itched to hold her and soothe away the pain.
“Go away,” she said.
“No, thank you. I don’t like to see you upset. Let me stay here in your company?”
“You obstinate man,” she murmured as she gently shook her head.
“Perhaps I’m more of an assiduous man. I prefer persistent rather than obstinate man.”
“Have it your way,” she said. A full moon cast a glow around her that caused her hair to shimmer as if strands of fine gold had been woven through her locks. The remnants of tears on her skin glistened in the moonlight.
“Then I can stay?” he asked softly.
Without looking at him, she nodded.
“Let me tell you a story, one that doesn’t paint me in a good light.” He took a step closer. “When I was eight years old, I was roundly chastised for eating the icing off a strawberry torte the pastry chef had made for an important dinner my father and mother were hosting for the Prince of Wales.”
Theodora’s eyes widened. “The Prince Regent?”
Will nodded. “I’d never seen my mother so angry with me. But do you know what caused my utter embarrassment?”
She shook her head.
“My parents made me apologize to the chef in front of the whole kitchen staff. My parents’ disappointment in me was nothing compared to the distress I saw in the chef’s eyes. He’d always been kind to me and had special treats for me and my siblings.” Will bent and studied his boots. This story still caused him to feel uneasy. “He’d worked on the torte for two days, and in a matter of ten minutes, I’d ruined all his efforts.”
“You were eight, and I’m an adult,” she said, then turned and looked out toward the park. The moon’s glow kissed her profile, making her skin radiant. She tilted her chin defiantly, but her hands clenched into fists betrayed the shame that still haunted her.
The urge to take her in his arms didn’t diminish, but he shouldn’t—no, couldn’t act upon it. She was not destined for him, and they’d both be happier for it. His duty as a Cavensham was to make certain that she felt welcome. That was all this conversation meant between them. “Thea,” he said kindly. “I daresay that I had more etiquette lessons by the time I was eight than you’ve had your entire life.”
At that, she whirled around with the skirt of her gown trailing behind. “I’m well aware of my lack of education of all the things expected of someone in my position.”
“Theodora, stop.” To hell with not touching her. She misunderstood what he was trying to impart. He closed the distance between them and placed his hands on her upper arms. Her gaze flew to his. “That’s not at all what I’m saying. I should have known better. But my actions hurt someone in my parents’ employ. It felt like a hundred needles pricking me when I had to apologize to the chef. That apology cost me more than any I had to give my parents.”
“Why are you telling me this?” she whispered. Trails of tears stained her cheeks.
Without any thought to his actions, Will ran the back of his forefinger down one wet cheek. Her softness was a beacon to him, and he trailed it down her cheek once more, wiping away the remnants of tears.
“Because I saw your face in the dining room when you looked at the footmen. You were mortified. I knew what you felt in that moment as I’d experienced it before.”
She leaned against him, and his arms automatically encircled her lithe body. Gently, he ran his lips over the top of her head. That mystical red hair tickled his skin, and she smelled of sunshine and pureness. He took a deep breath and held her scent as long as he could.
“Your parents were everything lovely, and your entire family was welcoming. They’re all elegant and handsome, and I’m a bumpkin. The title of countess doesn’t hide my flaws, and I’m powerless to change them with the short time I have left before I appear in front of the committee.” Her hands rested against his chest, and she burrowed her forehead against him. “What am I going to do? How will I ever manage to make my claim believable in front of that committee when I can’t even manage a friendly dinner?”
“You’ll be yourself. Everyone will recognize your strength as you tell them who you are and where you come from. You are the Countess of Eanruig. Never forget that.”
She didn’t lift her head and talked into his chest. Her words seemed to vibrate within him.
“What mortified me more than anything is that I … I embarrassed you.”
“No, you didn’t.” He continued to rub his lips across her hair, soothing her. Her breathing calmed, and eventually, she relaxed in his arms.
“Even before Stella announced our friendship, I wanted to be perfect for you and your family. Wasn’t that the definition of a friend, someone who values what you value?” She lifted her head and studied him. “I want your family to like me because I know they mean the world to you.”
His chest tightened at the sentiment. He’d had people in his life who claimed to be a friend, but they didn’t have any idea what was important to him—and frankly, didn’t care. She understood how much he loved his family. And she wanted them to like her because of him.
“You’re perfect the way you are.” Will’s voice turned guttural, but he studied her. This moment he’d remember for the rest of his life. She truly was special and didn’t deserve to be tortured by Ferr-Colby. He gently pulled away and took her hand in his. “Come, I’ll escort you back to your room. You have a big day tomorrow. I understand that Aunt Stella and my mother planned an afternoon of shopping.”
She heaved a sigh. “Wonderful. Another opportunity to show how inept I am.”
“Another opportunity to show how magnificent you are.” He raised her gloveless hand to his lips. Reluctantly, he released it.
“I truly appreciate your concern and attention.” She straightened to her full height and squared her shoulders like she was ready to face the enemy in an epic battle.
That was Thea’s true essence—kind and lovely with a hint of diffidence that was replacing her earlier Northumberland brashness.
She sighed gently.
“Come, Thea.” He held his hand out for her. She studied it as if debating whether to return inside or not. Finally, she made a decision. With a nod, she gently slipped her small hand into his. Without their gloves, the touch of skin to skin was as intimate as a kiss. He entwined their fingers together, not wanting to let her go.
Thankfully, they didn’t meet one of the family or any servants as Will escorted Thea to her room. It was as if everyone realized he needed to find her and comfort her in privacy. After he wished her a good night, he proceeded downstairs for a brandy.
He deserved one.
Pitts waited for him at the bottom of the steps. “Sir, the duke and duchess would like a word before you retire.”
God only knew what the summons meant. No doubt, they wanted to find out more about his friendship with Thea.
He only hoped they weren’t helping Aunt Stella with her plans and setting a wedding date.
It was all a wasted effort, but no one would listen to him.
Nancy had Thea’s bed turned back and her nightgown laid out when she entered her room. Without waiting for the maid to return, Thea undressed herself, then unpinned her hair from tonight’s elegant styling.
As she ran the brush through her locks, she couldn’t help but think of the happenings of the evening. She was still mortified, but with Will’s kind and considerate words, perhaps it wasn’t as bad as she’d thought.
Tomorrow she’d start dancing lessons, and she prayed they’d be easier than dinner. She glanced in the mirror on top of the dressing table where something caught the reflection of the candlelight in her room. Sitting on a side table, the glint of a silver dome covering a serving tray caught her attention. She went to investigate and found a note beside the tray.
Dear Theodora,
I decided to have another serving myself and thought you’d like one too. I personally prepared it for you. I hope it brings as much enjoyment as the first serving we shared.
Just remember, those of us who enjoy the sweet things in life and deserve such goodness must follow our instincts when it comes to securing our heart’s desires, particularly orange cream.
Langham
Thea already suspected what was under the silver dome, and when she lifted it, her thoughts were confirmed. A beautiful serving of orange cream sat in the middle of the tray with an orange slice and a perfect green mint leaf decorating the plate. The first bite was as delicious as her earlier one, and she had the duke to thank for the kind gesture. On her last bite, she licked the spoon clean, and reread the short note.
She completed her ablutions and cleaned her teeth with tooth powder.
When she finally settled into bed, the truth couldn’t be denied. The Langham family had completely charmed her.
But their son, William, might have just stolen her heart tonight.