A Taste for Scandal by Erin Knightley Page A

flowers, and now this? She looked to him with new interest. In the space of a few minutes, he seemed almost a completely different person. An oddly likable person—though she couldn’t help but be wary of such a change.
    “I think both of us may have been guilty of snap judgment,” she admitted, meeting his gaze squarely. “For what it’s worth, I’m truly sorry for the things I said to you, and for not believing your motives in the first place. I’m not normally like that, and feel badly for taking my frustrations out on you.”
    The corners of Lord Raleigh’s mouth tipped up. “Bravo for us, Miss Bunting. We have been able to remain civil for over a minute. That is certainly a record.”
    She hugged the bouquet to her chest and smiled as the delicate, heady scent of roses surrounded her. “Indeed.”
    Collecting the coins and wrapped scone from the counter, he stepped back. “We had best be on our way. I certainly wouldn’t want to tempt fate by overstaying my welcome.” He sketched a shallow bow, just as he might have had she been a real lady. “It’s been a pleasure, Miss Bunting.”
    Without another word, he turned and escorted his sister out the door. Jane returned Lady Beatrice’s quick wave just before the pair turned right and disappeared from sight.
    For a moment Jane simply stood there, staring out the glass of the door like an idiot. What had just happened? She finally blinked and looked down at the flowers still clutched to her chest. If it weren’t for their physical presence, she would think the whole thing was just a dream. A wonderful, impossible-to-believe dream.
    She took a deep breath. No matter how shocking the encounter, she had to pull herself together. She had entirely too much to do to be standing around all day like some sort of princess, staring at a bunch of flowers. Pausing to retrieve her mother’s precious vase from the top shelf of the cabinet behind her—blessedly still intact after yesterday’s scuffle—she headed to the kitchen to rescue her brother.
    As she descended the stairs, Weston glanced up, sweat beading on his brow as the whisk clanked rhythmically against the metal bowl. “Oh, thank God,” he said, abandoning his task at once and rolling his shoulders. “What took so lo—saints above, did the old bat bring you flowers ?”
    Jane came up short. The old bat? Oh, yes, she had already forgotten about Mrs. Brown. She shook her head, realizing what he must be thinking. “Heavens, no. These are from Lord Raleigh.” She slipped between him and the worktable and headed for the sink. With any luck, he wouldn’t notice the blush heating her cheeks. “And it’s not very nice to speak of Mrs. Brown that way.” She couldn’t bring herself to put much heat in the rebuff. Old bat, indeed .
    “Yes, well, she’s not very nice. But what’s this about Lord Raleigh? From what you said last night, it sounded as though you two got on about as well as cats and dogs.”
    “He came round to make peace, which I appreciated. Now off with you before someone comes into an empty shop.”
    With a nod he headed up the stairs and back to the shop, leaving her in peace in her kitchen. She set down the flowers and the vase and peeked at the egg whites—perfect. She covered the bowl with a thin towel and turned back to the sink.
    Smiling, she lifted her mother’s gorgeous porcelain vase. It had stayed in its place behind the glass door of the cabinet since before Mama fell ill. After Papa died, there was no one to fill it anymore, but it was too beautiful not to have it on display. And then Mama died, and Jane couldn’t bear to put any of the cheery pieces away. Instead, they served as happy reminders of the parents she missed so much.
    A soft smile came to her lips. And now the vase would be filled again.
    She lowered it to the sink and started to reach for the pitcher when she caught a glimpse of something stuffed down inside the vase. Curious, she tugged it out, flipping it