Chapter 3
Evan felt his impatience grow as he sat at the tea shop. His date was almost half an hour late, and he wasn’t used to being kept waiting. He felt his indignation rise with every passing minute.
Even though he didn’t want this date, he also didn’t want to suffer the humiliation of the young lady not even showing up. His grandmother and brother would certainly get an earful about this if he was forced to leave the tea shop without even meeting Lady Penelope Atwood.
But after thirty minutes had passed, the door opened and a young lady walked in, along with her companion.
Their eyes locked for a moment. Despite the unpleasant circumstances, he was struck by her beauty.
Her ebony curls were carefully piled up on her head while her dark eyes captivated him.
Surprise and fear flickered over her face when they saw each other, but they were quickly covered up by a mask of serene indifference.
He stood up as they approached. He bowed. “You must be Lady Penelope Atwood. It’s a pleasure.”
Instead of curtsying, she mimicked his bow. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Grace.”
He stared at her, a little perplexed. “I thought we were supposed to meet half an hour ago. Perhaps I was mistaken.”
“Not at all, Your Grace. I was quite late, wasn’t I?” She flashed him a smile as she sat down at the table, looking unbothered.
He frowned as he took the seat across from her while her companion chose a third seat. “I suppose you had a good reason for keeping me waiting?”
She shrugged. “Perhaps.” The lady leaned forward, putting her elbows on the table. “So, what’s good here? I have never been to this shop before.”
He felt his ire grow inside of him, along with shock.
Was this woman truly the daughter of an earl?
She certainly looked like it, but he had seen street urchins with better manners.
He glanced at her companion, whose expression was neutral aside from a small smile playing on her lips.
“I have not had the pleasure of dining here myself, but I have heard the earl gray tea is quite good. How are your parents?”
“The same as ever, Your Grace. They certainly never change.” Her smile turned slightly bitter for a moment before she looked away. “Do you like to read?”
“Read?” He was surprised by the abrupt change in subject.
“There are these things called books. They have pages with words. Perhaps you’ve heard of them.”
He frowned. “Yes, I am aware. Though I don’t appreciate being talked to in this manner, Lady Penelope.”
“What manner? All I did was ask if you liked to read. You were the one who seemed bewildered by the idea.” She leaned back in her chair, smiling. “I dearly love to read myself. My father doesn’t like it when I read books by Mary Wollstonecraft, but I must admit, she’s one of my favorite authors.”
He smiled despite himself. “Are you trying to shock me, Lady Penelope?”
She grinned in response. “Is it working, Your Grace?”
“Not in the least. I also find her work fascinating.” Mary Wollstonecraft was considered a controversial author because of her outrageous lifestyle and her radical views about women.
But Evan wasn’t lying about finding her work fascinating.
He owned The Vindication of the Rights of Women and had read it several times.
She looked almost put out by his comment. Evan was beginning to suspect that Penelope wanted to be here as much as he did, and she was trying to provoke him. However, despite himself, he found it amusing.
Tea was served, along with pastries.
Penelope grabbed one of the scones and shoved it into her mouth. She groaned softly, and the sound sent an unexpected current of electricity through him.
“Bloody hell,” she said, her mouth still full of food. “These are delicious.” She grabbed another one as their eyes met, and she had the good grace to blush. “Apologies, I… Actually, no. I am not sorry.”
He now strongly suspected she was acting this way on purpose to dissuade him from courting her. Despite her showing otherwise, she had manners. She would not have apologized if she didn’t. He also noticed she was talking at a low volume so no one else would hear her shocking words.
However, her love of the scones was genuine. He didn’t know how he knew that, but he was certain. Evan picked up one of the pastries himself and took a small bite. He frowned and put it back down. “You can have as many scones as you wish,” he said. “I find them quite bland myself.”
“Then you truly do not know how to truly appreciate food.” She grabbed her teacup and moved her arm just wildly enough to send the hot liquid flying onto his suit.
He hissed under his breath as the liquid burned his skin.
Penelope smirked at him. “So you don’t melt after all.”
“Pardon?” He examined the spreading stain on his shirt.
She shrugged. “They call you the Duke of Ice. I simply wondered if you were an overgrown snowman cursed to life by a mischievous enchantress.”
“My lady, the only mischievous enchantress that I know is sitting across from me right now.”
Her eyes widened, and a blush rose to her cheeks. He enjoyed making her blush. He bet he could do so many more wicked things to her to make her blush.
Pull yourself together! She’s a lady, and you are not a bloody rake.
He dabbed at his suit with a napkin and didn’t say anything else. He didn’t know if he could trust himself to speak. He had never been so insulted in his life. But at the same time, he certainly wasn’t bored. In fact, he found himself eager to see what she would do next.
“Perhaps you’re right, my lady. Perhaps I am a snowman cursed to life. How would you explain it when I start melting in front of you in the tea shop? Someone would notice and you would have to explain yourself.” He leaned back in his chair, smiling. “I’m curious to know what you would do.”
“I would simply faint,” she said without missing a beat. “Pretending to faint can get you out of some awkward conversations. You should try it, Your Grace.”
“If I pretended to faint, then they will think you poisoned me,” he said. “I don’t think you would like the outcome of that.”
Her brow furrowed slightly. “No, perhaps not. But you wouldn’t want to faint when conversing with me, would you?” She batted her eyes in an exaggerated manner. “There’s nothing awkward about this particular date, is there?”
“Believe me, my lady. I don’t want to miss a second of this date,” he said with a predatory smile.
She looked down, a blush rising to her cheeks again. Instead of replying, she shoved a whole scone in her mouth.
He chuckled and took a sip of his tea. “Tell me, my lady. What else do you like to do when you’re not reading scandalous books?”
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as she swallowed the last of the scone and took a big gulp of tea. “Oh, the usual. I brew magical potions during the day. At night, I escape out the window and challenge unsuspecting men to duels.”
“Indeed? I’m glad I’ve never encountered you at night, then. I’m sure you’re a fearsome thing to behold.”
She arched an eyebrow at him. “You are hardly an unsuspecting man, Your Grace. I doubt anyone would challenge you to a duel unless they wish to follow in the footsteps of the former Baron of Boxton.”
He grimaced, but he was not surprised the subject had come up.
It was all anyone could talk about last Season.
“I did not go after the man because he disagreed with me in Parliament. I don’t know where that odious rumor started.
That man slapped one of my stableboys, and if there’s something I cannot condone, it is someone hurting people I am responsible for.
That is the truth of the matter. Do you believe me? ”
She stared at him for a moment, her gaze assessing. “I believe you.” Her voice was soft and sincere. “I think that’s very admirable, actually. There are not many nobles who would care about something like that.”
He shrugged, feeling off kilter from her unexpected praise. He didn’t know why he told her. He usually didn’t care what the ton thought of him. “And before you ask about the baker, he gave unwanted advances to my scullery maid. He deserved what I did to him.”
She leaned forward with her elbows on the table and cradled her face in her hands. “So he did not send you the wrong order of scones?”
“He did that too. But that is not why I ruined him.”
She smiled. “So what do you do when you are not valiantly saving your employees from wanton villains?”
He leaned forward. “Oh, I simply become a wanton villain myself. I set fire to orphanages and kick puppies for fun.”
She laughed, covering her mouth with her hands. It wasn’t a simpering giggle like so many ladies of the ton would do, but a real laugh. He realized he liked the sound of it.
“It’s a pity,” she said after she gained control of herself. “I was hoping you lived up to your nickname and had secret magical ice powers.”
“Oh, I do. On the coldest days of the year, I find people who are trying to find a bit of warmth in a cup of tea or hot chocolate, and freeze the beverage into solid ice. In the spring and summer, I find gardens in full bloom and I send a frost to kill all of the flowers.”
“My, my,” she said, pretending to be shocked. “Well, I’ll have to keep that in mind. I do love flowers and hot tea. Of course, I could always conjure up a spell to take away your ice powers. Then you would simply be a powerless enchanted snowman instead of a menace.”
“I can think of more than one way to be a menace, my lady.” His voice came out huskier than he intended and he watched her blush travel down her neck. He had to stop himself from looking too closely at her neck, and even lower, but wishing he could kiss his way down her reddened skin.
Penelope cleared her throat and leaned back in her chair, taking a sip of her tea.
Neither of them said anything to fill the silence.
Evan knew if they continued talking, he would betray how much he desired her at this particular moment, and despite all of their conversation of him being a villainous rogue, he was not looking to truly scandalize her or make her uncomfortable.
Perhaps she was already uncomfortable or simply saw no point in further conversation, because she didn’t make any effort towards more conversation either.
When all the tea and food were gone, the young lady stood up, along with her companion.
He stood up as well. “Well, it’s been a pleasure, Your Grace,” she said, giving him a quick curtsy.
She tripped over her own feet and lost her balance for a brief moment.
He started to reach out to grab her and steady her, but stopped himself at the last moment. They were in a public place, after all.
“Careful there,” he murmured instead.
She flashed him a smile in response. “I am sure you don’t want to see me ever again. It is a shame it didn’t work out. I wish you the best of luck on your hunt for a bride.”
He knew one thing for sure: he could not let their acquaintanceship end here. “Actually, I do want to see you again. Perhaps next week?”