“Thank you for indulging my sisters, Your Grace. They can be a handful. Double the trouble,” Elizabeth said softly, clearing her throat and failing miserably to contain her smile.
“It takes a skilled hand to manage wee terrors. Ye’re doin’ a fine job, me lady,” he praised.
“But what are you doing in a sweet shop?” she asked, genuinely curious.
While she wouldn’t have been surprised to see him in a spirit shop, the big, towering Scottish duke felt out of place in a sweet shop.
“Sweet tooth,” he replied simply, his eyes ogling the macarons and lemon drops.
The sight almost had Elizabeth giggling. It was not what she expected from him at all. Then, again, he seemed to be full of surprises. He was, as he said, different, indeed.
“With your size, I would imagine you looking to buy meat pies, Your Grace.”
“Och, ye wound me, Lady Elizabeth. A man needs a wee bit of sweetness too, especially when he’s tryin’ to survive a Highland winter.” Then his eyes sparkled mischievously as he added,“Though I’m thinkin’ ye’re tryin’ to flatter me, me lady. And it’s working better than ye’d like.”
Elizabeth’s cheeks flamed hotter, and she hastily looked away, voice barely steady. “I—I was just speaking plainly.”
Elizabeth scanned for the twins. They had already scurried to the back of the shop with their governess, even though she could still hear them arguing about which toffees to buy.
Alasdair, meanwhile, did not look like he was in a hurry. Instead, he leaned casually against the counter as he watched her avidly, and not entirely unlike the way he watched the macarons.
After Daphne darted after her sister, Elizabeth turned back to the Duke.
“Thank you for—for charming my ‘wee terrors’, Your Grace,” she said and glanced over her shoulder.
Victoria and Daphne were deep in negotiations at the back of the shop, with their governess struggling to keep order.
“Perhaps I wish some practice at charming ye, me Lady,” he replied with a grin. “I can see the likeness between ye and them as well.”
She arched a brow. “Because we’re all so well-behaved?”
He chuckled softly. “I see both sides of ye in them. The careful, proper one like Daphne, and the fiery, headstrong one like Victoria. Seems they’re little reflections of ye, each carrying a piece of yer fire.”
Elizabeth blinked, caught off guard by his insight.
No one had ever put it quite like that before, like she was more than just awkwardness or expectation. Yes, Daphne had been compared to her often, but Victoria… Everyone assumed Victoria mirrored Wilhelmina. But that wasn’t quite true. Wilhelmina was sharp-tongued and clever, a creature of reason and words.
Victoria, though… Victoria was something else entirely.
She was a goblin of a girl: pure instinct, all wild sparks and mischief. Not calculated like Wilhelmina. Not cautious like Daphne and Elizabeth. Just fire and trouble wrapped in ribbons.
And the Duke had seen that.
What else was he likely to see?
Meanwhile, the Duke looked in no rush. He leaned lazily against the polished counter, his gaze not on the sweets now, but on her. Intent, unreadable, a touch amused.
He wasn’t just full of surprises.
He was beginning to feel like one.
“I saw ye at the musicale, chattin’ with some lords,” he murmured. “I must say, ye did quite well. The men looked right pleased with yer words.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” she said, blushing even as she tried not to feel embarrassed. “It’s nothing.”
He was only watching to see how you’d perform. Merely part of the deal, she reminded herself.
“Ye did well with four lords, both young and old. That’s nae small feat, Lady Elizabeth.”