Page 15 of Presenting Miss Letitia (Once a Wallflower 1)

“You are most kind, Mr. Boyce

. I have been admiring that towering confection in the center of the table. Is it an ice?”

“You are correct. An artistic arrangement, is it not? Might I fetch you some?”

“If you would be so good. Thank you.”

Her escort rose and hurried over to the long tables set with crisp white linen cloths and sparkling silverware. It was laden with sumptuous dishes: platters of lobster patties, chicken, thinly sliced ham, poached salmon, fruits, a selection of cheeses, and cake.

“Good evening, Miss Bromley.” Letty glanced up at the deep voice. Cartwright’s amused blue eyes smiled down at her.

Letty’s heart began a strange thumping, which quite unsettled her. “I hope you have not left the lady disappointed, Mr. Cartwright. She seemed enamored of your conversation.”

He smiled. “You noticed?”

She smoothed her skirts over her knees and eyed him. “Lord Fraughton’s wife, was it not?”

He cocked a brow. “I believe we had an agreement to forget about that business in the library, Miss Bromley.”

“Our agreement? You made the rules, Mr. Cartwright. You need not fear I will break them.”

He nodded. “I merely wished to tell you how charming you look tonight.” His blue eyes danced. “The dress is quite lovely.”

She raised her eyebrows. “If you plan to refer to my previous attire, I beg that you do not.”

The smile lifted a corner of his mouth. “I would be quite beyond the pale to do so.”

“You would indeed,” she agreed. “But still, I fear you might succumb to it.”

“You have such a poor opinion of me,” he said in that manner she distrusted. “I should like to know what I have done to deserve it.”

“As good manners prevent me from telling you, I fear you must remain in the dark, sir.”

Mr. Boyce was shouldering his way through those clustered around the table, carrying a plate of ice cream. A frown furrowed his brow.

Cartwright glanced at him. “Here comes your eager beau.”

“He is not my beau,” Letty said quickly.

“I believe he has that in mind.”

Mr. Boyce stood before them. Letty was forced to introduce them.

“Good evening, sir.” Cartwright’s clipped tone suggested no polite conversation would ensue. Indeed, Mr. Boyce, still holding the plate, hardly seemed to welcome any. Cartwright bowed. “I trust your evening will be enjoyable, Miss Bromley.”

He walked away before she could respond, and as Mr. Boyce now pressed his offering upon her, she could only smile and thank him.

“You are acquainted with Mr. Cartwright?” he asked, unhappiness in his tone.

“Through my aunt,” Letty said vaguely. “This looks delicious. Are you not to have some, too?”

Boyce shook his head. “I don’t possess a sweet tooth. But I shall enjoy watching you eat it.”

Letty took up the spoon, wishing he wouldn’t. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cartwright’s broad back disappear through the door leading into the ballroom. She should be pleased that he’d come to compliment her, but wasn’t, for everything he said to her seemed tinged with amusement. The suspicion returned that he considered her youth and inexperience vastly entertaining. She narrowed her eyes, wishing she could show him how wrong he was, or at least, give him a set down, but she doubted the opportunity would arise to do either.

“Is the ice cream not to your liking, Miss Bromley?” Mr. Boyce asked, hovering over her.

Letty had almost forgotten it. She smiled and took a mouthful of the smooth sweet dessert. “It’s delicious, Mr. Boyce. But so cold on the tongue!” She managed another two spoonfuls before she handed the plate to a footman and rose. “Shall we return to the ballroom?”

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