Chapter 7
Effecting a smile as she entered the shop, Della looked at her surroundings. The well-worn tables, chairs, and floor showed this to be a highly frequented establishment. And judging by what she smelled, she could understand why.
“Where did you two go? I came into the shop and thought you were right behind me.” Samuel asked when he saw them finally come through the door.
“Your brother got spooked,” Della said casually, joining Samuel to inspect the array of sweets on display.
“By what?” Samuel’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief, seeming shocked that something could ever frighten his brother.
“A rat,” Della replied.
“It was an enormous rat, and I barely managed to save you from its grasp!” Royce boasted, as if he alone had rescued them from the clutches of certain death. “You should thank me!”
“My apologies. Thank you for saving my life.” Della lifted her heels off the ground, leaned forward, and gave Royce a swift peck on the cheek.
She immediately recognized her mistake, but it was too late to take it back. Why had she not just expressed her gratitude with a simple thank you?
With a quick smile at Royce, Della averted her gaze, her eyes widening in disbelief at her own actions.
“Yes, well…” Royce cleared his throat. “You are most welcome.”
Samuel seemed to find their interaction amusing, almost as if he were watching a lighthearted theatrical performance, and laughed.
“Yer Grace! I was no’ ‘specting you today,” a kindly-looking woman said as she came through the doors leading from the kitchen, her eyes lighting up with a smile. “But I know exactly wha’ you came in ‘ere for.”
With a wag of her finger, she vanished behind the counter, only to reappear moments later with a small pastry topped with chocolate.
“May I?” Royce looked at her as she nodded. Royce took a bite, his eyes rolling heavenward. “Please tell Fran?ois that he has outdone himself with this batch, and I would also like to purchase whatever you may have left. I will take three with me and have the rest sent to her Grace’s residence.”
Mrs. Babbage smiled and hurried off to the back room. A short while later, she came back with three individually wrapped parcels.
“‘Ere you are, Your Grace. Fran?ois gives his thanks and is packaging the rest of ’em for you as we speak. I will have Mr. Babbage deliver them as soon as he returns.”
After they finished paying, Della, Royce, and Samuel ventured toward the square, eventually coming across a bench that was unoccupied.
“Have you ever had a petite duchesse?” Royce asked, taking a seat, and offering a parcel to Della and Samuel.
Della shook her head as she untied the string and unfolded the piece of cloth to reveal the pastry within. Lifting it to her mouth, she took a bite and almost moaned out loud.
The pastry was light with a soft crunch, the custard rich and sweet, and the chocolate…Della did not have the words. Now she understood the look she had seen overtake Royce’s face when he had eaten one back in the shop.
“So, what do you think?” Royce looked at Della hopefully.
“It is divine! I have had several pastries from various bakers, but I must say, this is probably one of the best I have ever had.” Della smiled before taking another bite.
“Mrs. Babbage is famous for them, though Fran?ois is the mastermind behind the door. I have been eating them for as long as I can remember. I once begged my mother to bribe Fran?ois to become our cook, but she is devoted to Mrs. Ivers and said it would ruin Mrs. Babbage’s business.
“Well, I could not have that—where was I to sneak off to while trying to avoid my studies? I visited her shop more regularly than I care to admit before leaving for Eton and during the summers we came home. I have a particular weakness for sweet things.” Royce’s serious expression transformed into a smile.
Della quickly looked away and focused on the people milling about the square, feeling a nervous tension beginning to pool in the bottom of her stomach.
She did not understand what Royce had seen when he pulled her into that dark alley, but she was sure it had been no rat he was hiding from.
“I see my friends right over there! Might I go over and say hello?” Samuel excitedly pointed to a group of boys playing.
“As long as you stay where I can see you.” Royce nodded.
Samuel stuffed the rest of the pastry into his mouth before running off to greet his friends. Royce and Della laughed at Samuel’s exuberance as they turned to face each other.
“You have some chocolate…just there,” Royce said, pointing at the corner of her mouth.
Though un-ladylike, Della stuck out her tongue to lick the stray chocolate. “Did I get it?”
She held her face up for inspection as Royce gently placed his finger under her chin, moving her head slightly to the right. With a gentle touch, he brushed away the remaining chocolate from the corner of her mouth.
“Perfect.” Royce said softly.
“Your Grace!” a voice yelled from somewhere behind Della.
Royce quickly stood, knocking the empty wrapping of their pastries to the ground.
“Lord Milton, Miss Putnam.” Royce nodded.
“I told Father I saw you earlier, but you were gone when I turned around to show him. He said that you stopped by to talk with us the other day while I was visiting the orphanage.” Miss Putnam looked at Royce, a question in her eyes. “We were about to depart when I spotted you and decided to come over.”
Lord Milton remained quiet.
Della did not know what the conversation between him and Lord Milton had entailed, just like Royce did not know that she knew why this exchange felt so awkward and tense. Noticing Royce’s obvious discomfort, Della took pity on him.
“Hello, My Lord, Miss Putnam,” Della curtsied.
Lord Milton did not acknowledge that Della had spoken. He simply narrowed his eyes at Royce without uttering a word.
“Miss Rowntree.” Miss Putnam pursed her lips as she eyes Della up and down. “Whatever are you doing here, alone, with His Grace?”
That was an impertinent question,Della thought to herself.
She had never gotten along with Miss Putnam, though the exact reason for their discord was something Della never fully understood. They had never been friends, nor had they been enemies. They had just been two young girls who had made their debut together and gone their separate ways.
“But we are not alone. My younger brother is just over there.” Royce stepped aside and pointed at Samuel, who was still running around with his friends.
“Oh, of course. Please forgive my presumption.” Miss Putnam gave Royce an overly sweet smile.
“I came with the Duchess and Lady Derrington. I picked up a book I purchased, and they needed to pick up Lady Derrington’s dress for the Bellamy’s ball this evening at Madame Delphine’s. They also had another errand to run, so I walked a few doors down to Mrs. Babbage’s, where I bumped into His Grace and his younger brother. They were simply honoring me with their presence while I waited,” Della said in defense of both her and Royce.
“How thoughtful.” Miss Putnam turned toward Royce, dismissing anything else Della might have to say. “I was wondering, Your Grace,” she said, stepping closer to him. “Since Miss Rowntree must get back to your sister, would now be a good time for the discussion you wanted to have?”
“Well-met, brother!” a booming voice echoed along the green.
They all turned to see Desmond and Grayson, Royce’s other brothers, making their way to where they were standing. Royce’s posture seemed to relax at their well-timed interruption.
“Good day, everyone.” Desmond’s kind and cheery countenance greeted them. “My Lord, Miss Putnam, Miss Rowntree.” Nodding his head as he said each name.
With his quieter demeanor, Grayson did the same, then glanced back as Miss Putnam. Della noticed Miss Putnam smile and quickly look away, attempting to hide her blush.
“We happened upon Mother and Maggie as they were leaving a shop,” Desmond said, lending truth to what Della had told Miss Putnam. “She informed us that Miss Rowntree had gone to the park and asked us to seek her out. We are to meet at the Inn for luncheon. Might we go? I am famished.”
“Is filling your stomach all you ever think about?” Grayson laughed, clapping Desmond on the back.
“Is there anything more satisfying than a full stomach?” Desmond joked.
“Will you join us?” Grayson asked Royce.
“What about me?” came a childish voice.
“Where did you come from, little brother?” Desmond chuckled, ruffling Samuel’s hair.
“I have been here the whole time!” Samuel exclaimed, swatting at Desmond’s hand.
Della glanced at Miss Putnam and Lord Milton discreetly. Neither of them seemed happy at having been interrupted while conversing with Royce, even if it was his brothers doing the interrupting. As her eyes fell on Della, Miss Putnam’s lips turned down in a displeased frown, devoid of the feigned sweetness she had used on Royce.
“Will you be attending the Bellamy’s ball tonight?” Royce asked, pulling the attention back to him and breaking the contemptuous stare Miss Putnam had been leveling at Della.
“Father and I will both be there.” Miss Putnam smiled.
“Might we converse then?” Royce inquired.
“Of course, Your Grace.” Miss Putnam nodded, glancing at her father.
Della could feel a nervousness coming from Miss Putnam. No doubt Lord Milton was putting pressure on her to secure her engagement to Royce. And it was obvious she wanted to talk to him now, but with the duke’s family present, Miss Putnam was not going to deny his request to speak later that evening.
The Putnams said their goodbyes and made their way to the entrance of the square where their carriage sat waiting.
“Is it just me, or did that seem like a terribly awkward conversation?” Desmond asked, breaking the silence.
“It was,” Royce admitted.
“Well,” Grayson said, clapping his hands together. “Should we see to feeding our poor brother before he wastes away?”
At that moment, Desmond’s stomach took the opportunity to growl in agreement. Everyone laughed and headed to meet up with the rest of the group at the Inn.
Della walked slowly behind the four brothers, listening to their laughter as they joked around, and wondered what it would be like to have a family as large as theirs.
Her eyes locked onto Royce as he burst into laughter at Samuel’s comment, before he turned his head to look back at her and smiled. She had always felt like she was on the periphery, looking into the close-knit world of the Derringtons, despite them always treating her like part of the family.
She had to confess to feeling envious whenever she left their company. Their household always remained lively and vibrant until late in the evening, while she went back to her loving but comparatively quiet home.
She only hoped that when she finally started a family of her own, it would burst at the seams with the sounds of joy and laughter.
“I must thank you,” Royce said, slowing down to match pace with her.
“For what, Your Grace?”
“For coming to my rescue back there with Lord Milton and Miss Putnam. Though I suppose you do not know what you were rescuing me from.”
“I do, actually.”
“You do?” Royce quickly turned to look at her.
“Yes. I have heard a few rumors, though I know not everything can be believed. Your aunt Imogen told your mother a few things she overheard the other day at tea.”
“Yes, they approached me about it as well.”
“Is Miss Putnam the reason you pulled me into that alley earlier?” Della asked, smiling at a gentleman that passed by.
“About that—”
“Please, do not insult my intelligence by saying it was a rat again.” Della immediately regretted the harsh tone of her words.
“Fine, it was not a rat…it was a mouse.”
Although she tried to resist, she could not help but break into a smile at Royce’s attempt to lighten the mood.
“I will admit, it was not one of my prouder moments. If it is all the same to you, it is something I would just rather forget,” he said, as if it was something that could be easily done.
Della fixed her eyes on the ground as they walked. Royce was still completely unaware of her knowledge of the situation and therefore could not be held accountable for how his responses affected her. But despite her best efforts to shield herself from the impact of his words, the pain remained the same.
“Consider it forgotten,” Della said softly.
But she had no wish to forget his soft caress, how it felt to have his body pressed against hers…or how heart-achingly close he had come to kissing her.
“Here we are,” Grayson said, coming to an abrupt stop in front of the Four Crowns Inn. “Shall we go in?”
Royce peered through the window where the rest of his family sat at a table, having procured a private room, and smiled. He liked how close his family was. How his mother always included his youngest siblings on their outings, despite their behavior, which was a bit unruly at times.
His mother had never been one to hold fast to the what the Ton deemed acceptable. She taught her children that rules were not always rigid and, if done properly, they could be adapted to fit any circumstance.
Her commitment to those words was unwavering, and today, she showed it by having the governess join the family for a meal in view of anyone who passed by.
Upon entering the room, Royce made his way to an empty chair and pulled it out for Della before taking a seat next to her at the end of the table. His mother looked at him, then at Della, and back at him, a soft smile playing about her mouth.
He did not like that look—that was her plotting something she ought not to be plotting look, and he silently shook his head at her.
The cooks at the Inn had prepared an amazing assortment for them, complete with cold roasted duck, cheeses, loaves of bread, and a selection of cakes and tarts. Everyone helped themselves and enjoyed the lively conversation.
Everyone, but Della.
“Is anything amiss?” Royce whispered so that only Della could hear.
“Oh…no.” Della shook her head, seeming preoccupied with the slice of bread in her hand as she tore it into tiny pieces and let it fall to her plate.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
Della crumbled the last piece of bread between her fingers.
“I think I am just tired. I would like to go back soon and rest before the ball tonight.”
“Of course.” Royce did not press Della any further as he stood, announcing that it was time for them to leave.
The Duchess followed Samuel and the twins into the carriage, along with Mrs. Cora. Desmond and Grayson bid farewell before heading to meet up with a few friends elsewhere. Royce walked around to help Maggie, then moved to do the same for Della.
“Are you sure you will be all right?” Royce asked.
“Yes.” Came Della’s brief reply.
Royce, once again, placed his hands on Della’s waist and lifted her up into the saddle when he felt a tug at his side.
Distracted by his concern for how Della was acting, he had forgotten to keep an eye on the vexing mare she rode. The intensity of his glare grew as he observed Demeter happily munching on the tails of his coat, and he lightly flicked her snout. Demeter snorted and dropped the offending piece of fabric, stomping her foot in protest.
“Serves you right,” Royce whispered harshly before he looked up at Della and saw her smiling slightly. Swinging himself up onto Titan’s back, he gathered the reins and turned them toward home.
He had never properly apologized to Della about what had happened in the alley today. Instead, he had asked her to forget the incident had ever happened, and she had agreed without question.
But how could he forget the fact that his heart had been pounding with anticipation at the thought of kissing her? Or how his heart had nearly stopped beating when she played along with his tall tale and given him an unexpected kiss on the cheek in return for protecting her from the evil clutches of a fictional rat?
Regardless, with his position as a duke, one would have expected him to possess a stronger resolve in certain situations.
He knew the viscount had a reputation for never backing down from an argument, regardless of how public it might be. So, he had made the quick decision not to give the man an opportunity to create a scene.
But no matter the excuses he kept inventing to justify his actions, his behavior remained inexcusable.
A sense of unease washed over him as he contemplated the upcoming conversation with Miss Putnam at the Bellamy’s ball.
He did not know what he would do or what he would say to her. But one thing was certain—he had to find the source of the rumors and put a stop to them before they caused any more damage.