Page 51 of To Break the Rules

“I won’t,” Kitty said with a sigh. “But I do hope you marry him, Tilda. I thought he seemed lovely.”

“I shall certainly give him a chance, and give it a lot of thought, Kitty. I can promise you that much.”

“Lovely. Oh, here we are,” Kitty exclaimed in surprise as Gunter’s came into view. “My, what a lot of people.”

Matilda looked around at the dozens of open carriages parked beneath the plane trees. More fashionable people milling about in the shade, chatting as everyone sampled Gunter’s flavoured ices.

Berkeley Square was an interesting mix of fashionable houses and trade with a large tree-lined park at its centre. Waiters scurried back and forth at breakneck speed, carrying little cups of ice to their customers before they melted in the heat.

Kitty and Matilda followed Lucia and Lord Cavendish into the shop with murmurs of relief to be out of the sun. Matilda watched with amusement as Kitty erupted into sighs of rapture over all the lush treats so beautifully arrayed before them. The air was heady with the scent of fresh baked cakes and fruit, and all things sweet and succulent. Cakes of lavish design with decadent ingredients jostled with biscuits and sweet treats of every conceivable colour and flavour, and that was before you even looked at the list of ices.

Matilda took some time to decide on elderflower as her choice, whilst Kitty chose strawberry, Lucia decided on the cinnamon, and even Lord Cavendish indulged with a maple flavoured ice.

As the shop was crowded with ever more people coming and going and making their selections, the party followed the example of everyone else and headed to the park at the centre of the square.

“This is divine,” Kitty said with a sigh of pleasure as she leant back against the trunk of a plane tree and ate her treat.

Matilda could only agree, the ice melting on her tongue in a burst of sweetness and cooling a little of the overheated irritation that had plagued her in the sweltering temperature of the city. She moved away from Kitty a little, luxuriating in the cool of the dappled shade and closed her eyes, savouring the sugary ice, and then exclaimed as she was almost knocked off her feet.

“Oh!”

“Oh, dear!”

Matilda looked down to see a little girl of perhaps eight years old staring up at her. Her hair was of the palest blonde, her eyes a light shade of blue, and there was something terribly familiar about her.

“I’m so sorry,” the girl squeaked looking mortified as she stared at the sticky mark her equally sticky hands had left on the delicate skirts of Matilda’s muslin gown. “It was an accident,” she added, staring up at Matilda with wide, frightened eyes. She turned then, wringing her hands together. “I’m sorry, Uncle Monty.”

Matilda’s head snapped up as she realised why the girl looked so very familiar.

The marquess sighed as he looked down at the little girl, one hand resting on his silver topped cane. “I believe I requested you go to your nanny to get cleaned up, not to use this lady’s dress as a napkin.”

“I’m sorry,” she said again, biting her lip.

“Well.” Montagu looked up at Matilda then, the ghost of a smile at his lips. “I’m afraid our fate is in your hands, Miss Hunt. What would you have of us for such a heinous crime?”

Matilda laughed as the little girl looked back and forth between them with alarm.

“Oh, I don’t think we need send for a magistrate,” she said, crouching down to the girl. “Hello, there. I’m Miss Hunt. What’s your name?”

“M-Miss Phoebe Barrington,” the girl stammered.

“How lovely to meet you, Miss Barrington. Now, then, I think you had….” Matilda inspected the brown finger marks on her gown with interest. “Chocolate ice?”

Miss Barrington nodded.

“Was it delicious?”

“It was,” she admitted, smiling shyly. “But it melted very fast.”

“I agree,” Matilda said, holding out her own little dish of ice. “This is elderflower. Should you like to try it?”

The girl’s eyes lit up, but she turned first to look at the marquess. “May I, Uncle Monty?”

For the first time and to her astonishment, Matilda saw a softer look enter the man’s eyes as he smiled at his niece. “Go on then, you dreadful creature. If Miss Hunt doesn’t mind.”

The little girl took Matilda’s spoon and helped herself to a generous mouthful, then grinned at her.

“Delicious,” she said with enthusiasm. “Though the chocolate was better.”