Sweet Temptation 02

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If you missed last month’s installment, you can read it at Sweet Temptation 01.

Sweet Temptation 02

Hubert Langham, Lord Dendridge, strolled along Berkeley Square, his nose lifting to catch the tantalizing scents wafting on the easterly breeze. Gunter’s iconic golden pineapple beckoned him closer to the teashop. Soon individual aromas emanating from the confectionary were distinguishable: vanilla, caramelized sugar, fresh fruit. But the floodgates of his memories erupted with the rich, luxurious scent of chocolate. His mother had brought him here prior to his being sent away to school at a tender age.

He had clung to his mother’s gloved hand as they stood before this window, admiring the confectioner’s work that had turned basic ingredients into art. Only today, he didn’t need to stand on the tips of his toes in order to see. The reflection of the curricles and phaetons parked along the square and a glance inside confirmed the teashop’s continued popularity.

Sweets had always been impossible to resist and today was no different. Hubert surrendered to the siren call of the sweetmeats and ducked into the hustle and bustle of the teashop. Once inside, he shifted from one foot to the other uncertain if the wait would be worth the bother.

A server caught his attention and pointed to a table near the center of the room with an empty chair. “If you don’t mind sharing, that’s your best chance. It doesn’t appear as if it’d be a hardship.” The fellow gave him a wry grin and slipped back behind the counter.

“Thank you.” Hubert noticed the young woman sitting at the other side. Indeed, she was quite lovely, her mahogany tresses pinned in a neat bun, with a delightful fringe of wisps begging for the faeries to come play in them. A light smattering of freckles danced across her nose and cheekbones. Her expression, as she took dainty bites of her ice, hovered somewhere between boredom and bliss. He suspected the chocolate was responsible for the latter.

“Better grab that chair fast ‘fore someone else does.”

He nodded his thanks and crossed to her side. “Beg pardon. Is this seat taken?”

“What? Oh. No.” She blinked up at him, her brown eyes framed by delicate lashes. “Please, join me.”

Hubert gave a slight bow, unsure of the proper degree of formality necessary in this awkward situation. “Hubert Langham. Your servant, Miss.”

“Milla—” She blushed and closed her eyes for a second, dipping her chin. The tip of her pink tongue darted out to gloss her upper lip before disappearing once more. “Millicent Allenby.”

“Please to make your acquaintance, Miss Allenby.” Hubert eased himself onto the spindly-legged chair. “I haven’t taken your chaperone’s seat, have I?”

Guilt flashed across her features, if he hadn’t been looking directly at her, he might have missed it. “My maid is off running errands, Mr. Langham.”

Hubert didn’t bother to correct her with his title. They’d likely never meet again after today and Miss Millicent Allenby wouldn’t likely remember him if they did.

“I did not think young ladies made a move without their shadows of propriety or they risked total ruination.”

Her laugh tinkled above the hum of the other patrons. So carefree and light. The corners of his mouth twitched in response to her unaffected smile. “You must be new to Town. Gunter’s is the one place we ladies needn’t worry.”

“Oh?” He quirked an eyebrow and waited.She tossed an offhand wave toward the front window and the vehicles gathered in the shade beyond. “It’s quite fashionable to take a lady for a drive and stop for ices beneath the maples.”

“I see. How very convenient for Gunter’s.”

Her smile at his comment pleased him. Since leaving Fairchilde House, he’d worried he’d lost his touch for light conversation with a lady and her response relieved his concerns.

“What brings you to London? Business, Mr. Langham?”

He frowned as she dipped her head and the frothy pink flowers on the table eclipsed his view again. The camellias were just tall enough to be a nuisance.

At Mother’s insistence, the urns flanking Wynchmore Manor’s entryway housed a pair of the shrubs. The gardener’s complaints about the pruning necessary to keep them contained and tidy were met by his mother’s simple logic: Running wild occasionally hurts nothing. He’d been surprised to see them still there.

“I had presumed so, but my father enjoys a last laugh at my expense.” His words sounded as bitter as the accompanying chuckle. He didn’t wish his father ill, but he had become used to living his own life by his own rules.

She leaned toward him, her spoon poised over her ice. “Goodness. How so?”

“He sent me to resolve a matter of family honor. However, the terms require a far deeper commitment on my part than I’m currently prepared to make.”

“And you had no notion?” Her spoon clunked to the table. “How unfair. Did your father expect you would not honor the agreement unless tricked?”

“It’s not that I don’t wish to honor the agreement. Eventually. I had not expected to be shackled with such responsibilities so soon.”

“I know what you mean.” Sadness or possibly regret crept into her voice and she toyed with the spoon as she stirred the growing puddle in her dish.

“You do? I can scarce credit a young lady such as your self not brimming with marriage plans? Don’t say you lack for suitors.” If not for the parson’s mousetrap his father had sprung on him, calling on her would be no hardship.

“None that have proven serious. But don’t waste your flattery upon me, sir. My head is not easily turned.”

A pity. She deserved to be flattered. “No offense, but my affairs require no further complications.”

“None taken. Your father sounds almost as managing as my mother.” She sighed.

“Would your mother have forced you outdoors and demanded you memorize the names of all the tenants?”

Their hands brushed as they both reached to move the vase of flowers from the middle of the table to one side.

“Lud no!” She jerked her hand back as if stung. “She would gladly have tied me to a chair and forced me to do needlework all day. The tenants and neighbors all were quite familiar with my horse and me.”

“Our childhoods sound quite different.”

“Or altogether too similar.”

The silence that fell between them wasn’t awkward, but Hubert felt the urge to fill it anyway. “Possibly,” he said.

However, further words failed him. He couldn’t deny the fascination this young woman held for him. Her charm appealed to him in a way that no other had before. Perhaps the notion of forbidden fruit tempted him now his intentions had been made clear to the Fairchilds.

Or maybe it was the hint of citrus in the air.

The rest of the teashop had faded to a dull murmur outside the bubble of quiet surrounding them. As the silence stretched out, the words “honor” and “duty” invaded his thoughts. She sat content to nibble at her melting ice, while he shifted his weight until the flimsy chair protested.

She leaned back and captured a bite of the creamy ice between her lips. Her expression remained unreadable as she studied him with great seriousness, as if she were attempting to realign her expectations.

Unable to stand the lull any longer, his gaze fell upon her crystal dish and an unexpected rush of words tumbled out of his mouth. “Which flavor ice do you recommend: the chocolate, elderflower, or something more savory like Parmesan?”

Thunder an’ turf! He hadn’t expected those words to pop out either.

“The chocolate is, perhaps, a tad boring.” She flipped the spoon over to lick its hollow. A thin streak remained where her lip glossed over the rounded back. “On a warm day like today, the elderflower proves cool and refreshing. However, if you seek a bit of adventure, I’m told the Parmesan is not to be rivaled.”

He shook his head to clear it. He hadn’t heard anything she’d said. Nay, he’d heard her talking. He just hadn’t retained a single word. His attention had been riveted on the enticing shape of her lips.

Fiends seize his father for putting him in this uncomfortable position. He wondered why the promise hadn’t been mentioned before now. Certainly a little detail like this might have been important to share? The old man’s desire for control irked him more than anything else. His betrothed could be plain and comforting as a chocolate ice, a sparkling diamond of the first water like the elderflower, or be an adventurous temptation like this English rose before him and he would remain indifferent. His lack of interest wasn’t Miss Fairchild’s fault, but he still resented the intrusion on his plans.

“Mr. Langham?” The strident note in Miss Allenby’s voice indicated she’d called his name several times already.

“My apologies. I was woolgathering.”

A delicate nod of her head directed his attention to the waiter standing at his elbow awaiting his order. He considered his choices: Safe, fleeting, or adventurous. The corners of his mouth tugged upwards. He knew what he wanted and would displease the old man most.

“One of your Parmesan ices. I feel daring today.”

If you enjoyed this, you might enjoy some of my other Excerpt Monday offerings.

Be sure to stop by again next month for the next installment of the story.

Links to other Excerpt Monday writers

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As always, your hostesses Bria Quinlan (PG13) , Alexia Reed (R), and Kendal Ashby (R) and Leslie Wright thank you for stopping by!

Joining us this week:

Kendal Ashby, Young Adult (PG-13)
Nadia Dee, Erotic Romance (PG-13)
Stephanie Dray, Paranormal Romance (Pg-13)
Marsha A Moore, Fantasy Erotic Romance (PG-13)
Debbie Mumford, Spec Fiction with Romantic Elements

Bonnie Dee, Historical Romance (R)
Ella Drake, Futuristic Romance (R)
Sable Hunter, Contemporary Romance (R)
Ali Katz, Contemporary Paranormal Erotic Romance (R)
Inez Kelley, Contemporary Romance (R)
KJ Reed, Contemporary Erotic Romance (R)

Keri Ford, Contemporary Erotic Romance (NC 17)
Mary Quast, Contemporary Romance (NC 17)