Juliana couldn’t fool him. Although she claimed these outings were meant only to give him practice so he could court Lady Amanda, she enjoyed his company. She liked him, whether she was willing to say so out loud or not. The proof? She’d baked him macaroons. Feeling much more pleased about that than he probably should, he lifted the froufrou doily and pulled one out. “No!” Juliana cried. “You’re supposed to save them for tomorrow.” “There are plenty of them,” he said, popping the little macaroon into his mouth. It was so light and toothsome it all but melted on his tongue. He’d never heard of a lady of the ton making sweets—or anything else that required entering a kitchen—but given Juliana’s talents, he found her unusual hobby charming. “These are delicious,” he told her and pulled out another. “Please don’t eat them,” she pleaded, sounding concerned.
