Page 19 of The Best Marquess

“Mmmm,” Pippa replied, resisting the urge to reveal the plan. It had to be a shock to everyone. “But you must swear one thing and I mean it, Gigi. No more furtive assignations. Because…er…I’ll not have my betrothal overshadowed by the scandal if you get caught.”

Her sister crossed her heart. “I swear. He might be angry to begin with, but I know he won’t mind when I tell him the reason: that soon we can finally be together properly. Oh, this is the best news. The best! I shall count the hours until the soiree. Poor Finlay, though. He will be sad to lose his best friend to marriage. I hope you purchase him an extra-large bag of caramels to ease the blow.”

“Finn’s caramel supply is quite secure, I assure you. Now go and enjoy your hell-spawned musicale,” said Pippa as the carriage stopped in front of an elegant brick townhouse on Clifford Street.

As soon as the footman lowered the step, Georgiana bounded down it, turned and blew a kiss, then hurried into the house. Once the carriage began moving again, Pippa cupped her hands over her mouth, screamed, then sat back against the squab and closed her eyes. Could the Nashes not go one day without giving her heart palpitations? The family rock had been worn down to gravel.

Thankfully Berkeley Square was close by, and soon the carriage came to a halt in front of Gunter’s Tea Shop. And there was Finn, standing under the distinctive pineapple sign and conversing with several smitten ladies who were seated in their carriage, obviously waiting for ices. But when he saw her, he excused himself and crossed the road to join her.

Despite the chilly air, Pippa opened the carriage door so they could speak freely. “Good afternoon. Dare I hope you have ordered me a lemon ice?”

He inclined his head. “It is being scooped as we speak. Hardly any customers today, some nonsense about ices being a summer treat.”

“Ridiculous,” she said happily, as his presence lifted the weight from her shoulders, even with an awkward discussion to follow. “I need an ice more than I need to breathe.”

“Oh dear. What now?”

She shuddered. “You don’t want to know.”

Not even I want to know anymore.

You don’t want to know.

Finn grimaced. That was the trouble, he did want to know, and ease Pippa’s burden. But he wouldn’t press the issue. She told him just about everything; for her to divert a question probably meant a confidence she couldn’t break. And he knew all about that. Abby’s wish to protect her and Nessie’s privacy far outweighed his desire to publicly acknowledge and embrace those he absolutely considered family. Hell, he knew exactly how vicious members of the ton could be, and wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

“Poor Pippet,” he said instead, leaning on the railing that separated the grassed area of Berkeley Square from the road. “Sounds like it was a good plan to order you the largest size ice.”

“Yes. Exactly correct,” she replied, her voice shaking slightly before she took a deep breath.

Damnation. All he wanted to do was climb into the carriage and take Pippa in his arms, the way he’d held her in Gabriel’s hallway. But that would ruin her reputation. Until they were officially betrothed and rules were considerably relaxed, the most they could do publicly was her in the carriage and him outside.

Finn glanced across the road at the tea shop, but still no waiter appeared. “I decided to try a different flavor today: brown bread. It might be delicious; it might be dreadful. You’ll know it’s dreadful if I accidentally drop the dish and plead for a spoonful of lemon.”

“I might even share. Half a spoonful.”

“Wicked woman.”

Pippa sat forward. “Oh, Finn, talking of wicked, you’ll never believe what happened. Your chemistry gift arrived. Georgiana thought it was a necklace from her mystery man so took it away to unwrap, then when she saw it was a book, returned it to the mail tray.”

He sucked in a breath. “Do you have it?”

“Right here in my reticule,” she replied, patting it fondly. “Fortunately, we were waiting for the carriage when she told me. I may have scorched the floor I ran so fast to the tray. When I think of someone else picking it up and flicking through…argh. Grandmother would have dispatched Father for a special license from the archbishop, and I would have been married off to Devonshire before the clock chimed noon.”

Finn whistled. “Now that is fortunate. But I’m worried about Little G. Why is she keeping this gentleman such a secret? It doesn’t feel right.”

Pippa’s fists clenched. “I might say he’s a skunk of the highest order, but that would be unfair slander to skunks. Once I discover who he is, he’ll rue the day he was born. And that is all I will say, lest I get myself into strife. Honestly, Finn, if it weren’t for men like you or Gabriel, I would counsel everyone not to bother. Actual heroes are scarce in this city.”

“Lovely,” he said, trying not to blush and failing utterly. “A rousing cheer for romance novels to keep standards high. And here come our ices.”

The deferential waiter handed Pippa her glass dish of lemon ice, then Finn his brown bread, before returning to the shop to wait for his next customer.

Finn stared at the pale brown scoops flecked with darker brown, then dug his spoon in for an experimental taste.

Oh.

How could such a delicious concoction have such a ludicrous, uncomplimentary name? It tasted of caramelized sugar and maple with a hint of malt! What kind of bacon brain called something like this brown bread ice when it could be called ambrosia?

“Finn. You whimpered. Is it that bad? Let me have a taste!”