introduced to as Baron Mentmore. She hadn’t had the chance to determine whether or not they would be good prospects, but their response to Mrs. Catton would surely help in that area.
The duke also sat at her table. But he did not sit right beside her, which was slightly disappointing, even as she knew that a little distance between them was for the best.
She pulled from her reticule a stick of graphite to take down notes when Mrs. Catton took her place in the middle of the room.
“Good afternoon, my ladies. My lords.” She dipped in a quick curtsy. “I shall be brief and direct.”
Much as Jess wanted to pay attention to the presentation, her gaze was riveted by the sight of the duke’s ungloved hand resting on the table. Though it didn’t have the calluses or cuts of a working man’s hand, it seemed quite capable and strong.
Would it be delicate or rough against her skin?
A shame you’ll never discover the answer to that, she mentally snarled at herself.
“It is my intention,” Mrs. Catton said, “to build Catton’s shops in other major English cities. To do so, I require investment capital. Which brings you here to my business,” she added with a small smile.
“What would be the return?” the duke asked. “I assume you mean we are providing capital for loans, not ownership stakes.”
Jess sat up straighter at his unexpected—but astute—comment.
“The return would be twelve percent,” Mrs. Catton answered.
Here was a good lesson for Jess—she would have to emphasize the return on her potential investors’ money.
“Perhaps you might question why you ought to invest in my proposed scheme. Why should my shop be any different from any other in Manchester or Liverpool? To answer that, I invite you to try the cakes on your tables.”
Jess peered at the confections. They were little squares of cakes, with pale pink icing topped with a minuscule sugar flower.
“It looks too adorable to eat,” she murmured.
“Nothing is too adorable to eat,” the duke answered.
Heat pulsed through her as their gazes held. She could not look away, not even if Lord Trask pointed a blunderbuss at her and called her a fraud.
“Please,” Mrs. Catton urged, “have a taste for yourselves.”
Jess ripped her attention away from the duke. She plucked up one of the cakes and popped it into her mouth. The confection was a symphony of texture and flavor, a delicately crumbed cake perfumed with rose water with a slightly crunchy sugar icing that had been flavored with strawberries. She wished she hadn’t jammed it into her mouth rather than relishing it, bite by bite.
As the duke was doing. He took a bite, chewed it contemplatively, and then took another. Thoughts and impressions flickered across his face and she could see how deeply he appreciated Mrs. Catton’s craft.
She was so fascinated by watching him that when he gazed at her, she didn’t look away in time to disguise her interest. All she could do was stare at him and chew.
“You’ve . . .” He reached for her.
She held very still. His hand brushed the corner of her mouth. She felt the texture of his skin, its heat, the softness of her own flesh against his.
Turn your head, her body demanded. Just a little so you can draw his finger into your mouth. He’ll taste of green earth and sugar. And he’ll be warm. So warm.
But he drew his hand back before she could act on her mad impulse. A tiny fleck of icing clung to his fingertip.
He licked his finger.
She was not the sort of person who swooned. Yet watching the duke lick the very place on his finger that had touched her mouth . . .
“Judging by your silence, my lords and ladies,” Mrs. Catton said, dragging Jess back into the room, “you appreciate the fruits of my shop’s labors.”
Jess came to attention. She had provided a sample for the Bond Street shops, and she had learned from Mrs. Catton’s presentation that having a sample of her product was essential in gathering interest. But she couldn’t just march into Lord Trask’s drawing room with a bar of soap in her hand.
She did have one of the wrappers in her reticule.
Mrs. Catton continued, “This is why I believe expanding the range of Catton’s is a plan destined to flourish. The potential for success far outweighs any incurred risks.”
There was more talk, more analysis of operating costs and the means by which the satellite shops would be constructed, and discussion regarding staffing, which would affect