Free Darrington 01 - Marriage Minded Lord by Sandra Sookoo

take you upstairs straightaway and show you intimate details of the shop—and the man if you would like.”
    “Absolutely, though,” Olivia gestured to Clarice, “we will need to make sure Miss Delacroix is well occupied. Perhaps tea?”
    As if I’m not standing here. Clarice glared. She hated it when Lady Drummond took it into her head to talk above her. And now it seemed as if Olivia’s only purpose in visiting the shop was to be intimate with the owner. Where did she find the energy?
    “Yes, yes, anything for a refugee from my beloved France.” He waved her toward the side doorway. “Come into the tasting room. I will bring tea and a tray of exquisite candies and pastries to occupy you. It will be most private.”
    Clarice cocked an eyebrow. “Lady Drummond, do you not require my presence? You wouldn’t want to encourage gossip should you find yourself alone with Monsieur DeFromme.” She chuckled at her own private joke for it was quite evident that’s exactly what Olivia desired.
    “The space abovestairs is very cramped, Miss Delacroix,” Pierre rejoined. He held out an elegantly appointed chair that gleamed with gilt in the afternoon sun. The tiny round café table was also finished with gold. Two other such tables waited, neither occupied. “No doubt it will be quite warm as the heat rises. You would be far happier here with the samples, yes?”
    “I suppose, as long as Lady Drummond realizes this isn’t orthodox.” She wanted to make certain her employer knew that she was quite aware what would transpire upstairs. Why didn’t Olivia come out and announce herself as a member of the demi-monde and have done with it?
    A trace of color stained Lady Drummond’s cheeks. “Nonsense, Clarice. There won’t be gossip for there’s not another soul in this shop, save for you, and who would you tattle to?” She stared hard at Clarice. “Even if you did, who would believe you? Besides, I don’t imagine the business between Monsieur DeFromme and myself will last beyond a half hour.”
    The shop owner’s grin held a slimy edge. “I shouldn’t think so, my lady. I can be quite succinct when needed.” Pierre patted Lady Drummond’s hand. “If you would be so good as to head upstairs, I shall join you momentarily once I see to Miss Delacroix’s tea.” He pivoted and rushed from the room.
    Olivia regarded Clarice with narrowed eyes. “I expect you to hold your tongue regarding my outings. My errands are not for the discussion among the Ton or the servants. Do you understand?”
    “Of course. Rest assured my lips will be sealed.” Clarice shrugged. If Lady Drummond wanted to whore herself out to any man with a working prick, that was her business. Clarice wanted none of it.
    “Very good. I’d hate to employ my crop again. Or perhaps next time I’ll find something harder.” Seconds later the rap of her heels on the stairs rang in the silence.
    Once alone, Clarice closed her eyes and rubbed her temples as a headache brewed. It had everything to do with Lady Drummond , her sloppy pursuit of Lord Swandon and her threats. I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t worry, but I cannot help it. Olivia was nothing but a light skirt in upper class clothes. She’d bring drama and shame to the Darrington family if he were to offer for her. He needs to know what sort of a person she is. The tinkling of the shop bell sounded, but she didn’t pay it any heed.
    “My poor Miss Delacroix, looking peaked the very day I bump into you and wish to make amends.”
    She jerked her head up and opened her eyes at the familiar baritone voice. There was only one man who caused goose flesh to break out over her skin from the way he said her name. “Felix, er, I mean, Lord Swandon, what are you doing here?” Pierre wasn’t with him. She stifled a groan as she studied him. His fawn-colored trousers showed his powerful legs to perfection, the ivory and cream striped waistcoat highlighted his flat belly and his navy superfine coat