Page 24 of Plucked By the Orc

“The dishes are missing one of our key spices,” Duncan grumbled, “not yet available in London.”

“Maybe that will change.”

“Maybe. In the meantime, take my word for it; these pale in comparison. Still, I insist you try the herring.”

“Another time, perhaps. Thank you.” Iris dabbed her lips with her serviette. Mrs. Thompson had told her she must have the soup, but after that, a lady might decline some of the food on the table. Iris hadn’t been planning to do so until she saw the herring. “You have been most gracious in inviting me into your home. And I happily save my appetite.” She paused for a breath after enunciating the “h’s.” “For what I am sure will be a delicious dessert.”

It was precisely what she was supposed to say, but she still expected he would try to force the dish on her. Instead, he folded his arms over his chest, beaming.

“Nicely articulated, Miss Gabbert. That decides it. I have a most delightful surprise for you.”

“Gingerbread cake?” Iris’s eyes widened.

“Better. You are ready to test out your new skills.”

“Lady Bellingham’s to-do isn’t for another ten days, by my count.”

“This would be a rehearsal, if you will. So you might put your lessons to use out in polite society.”

Iris worried her lower lip as she worked over the idea in her head. “Who would watch this rehearsal?”

Duncan placed a hand on each hip and smiled down at her once more, looking for all the world like a statue of one of the Greek gods she’d seen in a book. Pan or some such. Unique in looks, but also in allure.

Iris felt the low thrumming sensation under her skin. The same that plagued her late at night when her thoughts wandered. She longed to touch his firm biceps or stroke the exposed side of his throat where his cravat had loosened. She had a sudden fancy of what might happen were she to slide her hands over his chest. Perhaps even slide them down to investigate the feel of his muscular thighs underneath therespectabletrousers.

“You and I will call on my mother,” he said.

“Your mother?” The fancy vanished. Iris tossed the serviette on the table. “La! I can’t!”

“She shall welcome you, I’m sure.”

Iris wasn’t at all sure of it. From what she heard whispered around Drury Lane, a bachelor’s mum could get mighty testy when a young lady visited. On top of that, the land these odd-looking gents came from was run by women. Or at least partly so. Matriarchal. That’s what Duncan had called it. And a woman who had birthed and raised a bloke like Duncan Higgins must be formidable indeed.

“Restrict your conversation to comments regarding the weather and inquiries as to her health,” Duncan added. “At first. For practice. And then we can move to more complex topics. I think she shall like you very much.”

Iris nodded absently. She recalled Duncan’s lessons about which topics were appropriate. Nothing to do with religion or the world of politics—that being debated in Parliament and such. Getting emotions roiled up wouldn’t do. During this tutelage, Iris had done her best not to roll her eyes at the absolute poppycock of it all.

At the same time, she had listened closely. She didn’t scribble notes, but she’d always owned a powerful memory. So she knew what to say and what not to say in the company of these fine ladies and gents of thetonwell enough by now.

But she hadn’t expected to need to make conversation with Duncan’s mother. Sakes alive!

“What am I supposed to tell her about where I live?”

“We need not disclose the details of your current situation,” he told her. “We will conspire to create a suitable narrative to explain what has brought you to London.”

“So we’ll lie? To your mother?”

“Oh, I’ll get the truth of it out once you have a go-round with her. In the meantime, we need to keep your identity a secret.”

“She won’t find out I’m living here?”

“If she does, Mother won’t think anything of it. She is an orc, after all. We don’t subscribe to the same understanding of matters between men and women as humans do.”

“In theton, anyway,” Iris muttered. “Social niceties never stopped blokes and gals I’ve known from enjoying each other’s company when they think no one else is watching. You should ‘ave seen the first doss house where I stayed.”

Iris bit her lip, wishing she hadn’t been so quick to say all of that aloud. But Duncan merely tilted his head. The intense expression that settled over his face when curiosity came over him materialized now.

“Is that so? I should take note of it for my book. Would you mind discussing the doss house at greater length?”

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