"It would be a foolish man indeed who pitied you, Patty. And I believe we just covered the matter of you thinking me a snob."
Poppy rolled her eyes. "No, it is not Patty, and you are a snob. How can you not be, considering the life you lead."
"So following that ridiculous logic, every nobleman and woman is a snob in your eyes?"
She'd walked into that. "I'm sure there must be one or two who are not," she conceded.
"However, in your eyes I am not one of those one or two?"
This was an astute man, Poppy realized. He saw a great deal and his green eyes were alert. He was not someone you would step into a verbal sparring match with unless you were quick on your feet. Handily, Poppy was just that.
"I don't know you and I'm not sure it matters what I think of you anyway. What matters is Lady Revel."
"Tell me your name."
Poppy watched as he took off his gloves and placed them on the chair beside him, along with his hat. He looked vital and alive, she thought. Cheeks tinged with color from the cold air, thick black hair ruffled, body relaxed in the seat. He was a man who knew his place in the world. A man who never went without.
"No. Now please tell me what you learned today."
"Nothing. I was made to wait in a small, drafty room, and then the beleaguered butler reappeared to say Lord Revel had taken a chill and would not be able to meet me. The chill had come on suddenly, and one can only hope it turns into something severe and rids us of his presence."
"That's a horrid thing to say."
His eyes mocked her this time. "I thought you disliked the man, and thought him capable of nefarious deeds?"
"Oh, he is, but still, it is not right to wish death upon a person."
"Of course, vicar's daughter, I forgot."
Poppy didn't know if he was deliberately taunting her or not, but it certainly felt that way.
"You have no right to cast judgments upon my upbringing."
"As you cast judgments upon mine, do you mean?"
His smile was not a kind one, more the carnivorous type.
They were both distracted from their debate as another customer took the seat to their right. The man limped and his left arm was missing. Poppy watched Lord Dangerous offer him a nod, and she was sure the two men exchanged some form of silent communication before he returned his eyes to her. Something dark was there in the depths, and then he blinked and it was gone.
"Did you fight for your country, my lord?"
He nodded.
"Was it horrid?"
"Extremely."
"I often wondered," Poppy said. "We hear stories of glory days and battles won, but I have seen those who walk about the streets with dull eyes and injured bodies."
He nodded, but said nothing further.
"I'm sorry if you suffered, my lord. But grateful to you and the others for what you did for us."
Her words had surprised him, Poppy saw. Had no one thanked him before?
"Thank you, Miss March."
The young lady returned then, barely acknowledging Poppy, her eyes focused on Lord Dangerous. She lowered several plates laden with scones and cakes to the table, and a large pot of tea.
"Thank you, we shall see to the rest." He dismissed her with a smile, which flooded color into the woman's cheeks.
Before she could stop the sound leaving her lips, Poppy tsked.
"What appears to be the problem now, Miss March?"
"No problem."
"You just tsked, which would indicate there is."
"Do you ever tire of all the fawning and 'yes, my lord, no, my lord'?"
"My birth is not my fault, Miss March, as yours is not your fault. Now please, at least while I attempt to nourish myself, can you not hold your tongue?"
Poppy found a smile. "I shall try." She looked over the laden plates before them. "Are you expecting someone else, my lord?"
"No, but I have a large appetite, and know how excellent the scones are here. Will you help me with this, Miss March?"
She studied him, but his face held no expression. Had he ordered such a large quantity of food because he knew she was hungry, or because he was hungry?
"I don't need you to feed me, my lord."
"Fine, I will eat and you can watch."
"I shall leave, if there is nothing further to discuss."
He sighed, loud enough so that the two tables beside them heard.
"You, Miss March, are a difficult woman."
Poppy smiled again. "Thank you."
He barked out a laugh. "Eat, Miss March, for pity's sake."
He opened his mouth and took a large bite of a scone laden with jam. Poppy's mouth watered.
"You know you want to."
She did, but pride kept her hands in her lap. She hoped he had not heard the rumble of her stomach.