Persuasion in the Pantry [Maid for More #1]

Chapter 4: On the street where you live

"where the jasmine blooms..." Verushka trailed.

"and the music lingers from the orchestra inside" Mina added.

For a few moments they shared a companionable silence in a world of pure fantasy and girlish dreams. Verushka was the first to pull herself from the futile pursuit of a make-believe mate. Standing up and dusting herself off she scolded the girls and herself, "How silly we are. The Duke has not even been back one day and already we have turned into romantic ninny's hoping to be prim misses. We wouldn't last a day as a debutant and you know it! Mina would no doubt start a fight with the nearest girl who looked at her wrong and Liara is not exactly backward in coming forward. Noblemen prefer ladies not to say a word and my dear friends we are about as far from that description as possible." Placing her hands on her hips she stared down at the girls to finish her tirade, "We bake the bread, climb the trees and make trouble all the day long, and that is not about to change no matter how many Devilish Dukes come waltzing into Bexley House!" She finished with aplomb and would have been filled with a sense of self satisfaction that only comes from total confidence in oneself and ones situation- which was most likely feigned from telling a very convincing lie to all and sundry.

However, it was at that moment that Verushka, pastry maid of Bexley House, standing in the ditch with a bag of dead chickens, a now half empty wine cask, an armload of vegetables and two squatting friends in the dirt, saw the Duke of Bexley crossing the street towards her.

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Scot had spent a good three quarters of an hour being measured, poked and prodded while listening to friendly mocking. By the end of which, he was more than eager to escape the confines of the tailors' store and stretch his legs in the warm sunshine. When his first footstep hit the gravel he felt infinitely better and placed his hands in both pockets, smiling softly and counted himself lucky to be enjoying the meek English sunshine.

Jay walked at his side, casually surveying the scene as they crossed the street. The late morning traffic in Grosvenor Square was hectic as usual with so many of the London peerage late risers and even later sleepers what with all the balls, operas and midnight trysts.

Scot noticed Jay's lips twitch in a grimace as he watched a young girl exit a carriage, and tilted his head questioningly.

"Your mother isn't having a debutant ball tonight is she?" Jay grimaced. "I mean, you are not luring me with the promise of apple pie and instead have your mother try to land me a puerile infant?"

Scot's eyes widened in horror, "Oh God, I hadn't thought of that, although she is more likely to launch me on society rather than you. And I believe those infants are called debutants." Scots frown deepened, "and wasn't it treacle pudding, not apple pie?"

"That's the important message you're taking away from this?" Jay cocked an eyebrow exasperated. "What you fail to realise, my dear friend, is that you are one of the most eligible bachelors in all of England and I follow a close second. With the two of us together again Society Mama's and their delinquent daughters will be everywhere we look," he continued.

"Ah, but what about the daring daughters, the debonair daughters or heaven forbid the debaucherous daughters?" Scot mocked.

"I fail to see how this is funny." Jay strode off leaving behind soft laughter.

"Jay, wait!" Scot called out- and then he saw her.

She was a vision, an ethereal goddess rising from the dirt; his own Aphrodite. She wore a brown cotton threadbare dress to her ankles with sturdy boots peeping out and a small hole peering through the right one. Her cheeks were smudged with soil and flour, her apron askew and both arms akimbo. A delicate frown creased her forehead as she stared at him.