Marcus’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. Her warm, soft hands… they felt nice on his face. Which he immediately felt disgusted at himself for thinking. How could you be thinking about this instead of Angeline??? “I disagree, but thank you.” If he had killed his uncle sooner, none of this would have happened.
Winifred dropped her hands away slowly, shaking her head with a small smile. "As I assumed you would…" she muttered. She stood and dusted off her skirt. She saw the waiter return. She returned to her seat.
Marcus returned her smile, nodding at Thomas. The waiter set their meals in front of them, giving Marcus a quick wink. “Thanks, Thomas.”
He left, leaning Marcus alone with his….. date? Doctor? “Bon appetit.”
"Thank you." Winifred gave Thomas a pretty smile. She then turned to her soup. Silently, she took a curious sip. The warmth slid down her throat with such creamy deliciousness. She moaned in delight. "This is amazing!"
Winnifred’s moan sent a shiver down Marcus’s spine and brought the faintest of blushes to his cheeks, but he managed to snap out of it quickly. “Yeah, their soups are delicious.” He took a sip of his own, a thick tomato broth.
Winifred laid her eyes on him and hid her smile as she took another sip, noticing his blush. "You don't say…" She didn't know why seeing that blush satisfied her so much, but it did. And she had to stop herself from thinking up naughty schemes to make it appear once more.
Marcus’s eyes found hers, and he was disappointed to find that his heart faltered when they caught the mischievous gleam in those chocolate depths. “And what could the lady be thinking about right now?” he decided to tease lightly, hoping for a flushed reaction.
Winifred flushed as the notion that she had been caught in her planning, she nearly choked on her spoonful of soup. She swallowed and took a long sip of water. She coughed a few times before taking a deep breath. "N-none of what I think it your concern, Lord Marcus!" she snapped indignantly, her cheeks aflame.
Marcus barely stopped himself from grinning and reaching forward to brush his fingers over those pink cheeks. “You are quick to anger.” He took another spoonful of soup into his mouth. “Do you need me to apologize again?”
She furrowed her brows and narrowed those doe eyes. She set her spoon down about to remark with something very unlady -ike until it hit her. She smiled. "If you must know. I was wondering if that waiter looks as good as you when he's shirtless. Though I suspect he looked a bit better, more developed as a man…"she purred.
Marcus’s eyes flew open. It was his turn to choke on his soup and splutter indignantly. “P-Pardon??” He almost lost his grip on his spoon, every single suave answer disappearing from his head. “Thomas— Thomas is younger than me— wait— you— thought I looked good shirtless????”
Winifred roared in laughter. She couldn't help herself. The look on his face was absolutely priceless. And more so, the victory was hers this round. She'd save her gloating for latter. But just to trip him up a little more, leave him thinking. She batted her lashes at him, and wink, before taking a sip of her soup. She said no more.
Marcus sat there, completely and perfectly still. He didn’t dare to move for one, two, three full minutes. When he finally did, all he could do was close his open mouth. “You— saw— you— thought——— Oh. Oh.”
She took a bite of her cucumber sandwiches, almost forgetting about them. They did not disappoint. She breathed happily. "This place is wonderful Marcus – Oh!" She reached over and closed his mouth, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Don't want to catch flies now do we?"
Marcus’s whole face was red by now. His left hand trembled ever so slightly. Winnifred’s fingers were still on hhs lips, and be decided to seize the opportunity to fluster her right back, just a bit. So, raising his own hand and grasping hers, he pressed her fingers slightly harder against his mouth. He was clearly embarrassed, caught off guard, but his eyes twinkled flirtatiously.
She gasped as a shiver ran through her. She looked at him with shocked eyes that grew even wider when she registered the flirtation in his eyes. Was he enjoying this?
Winifred heart skipped a beat as her fingered lingered on his lips. She didn't want to pull them away. Not from those soft, tantalizing lips. If only she didn't have these gloves of she could feel them. She didn't bother stopping her thoughts, she could hard decipher what was happening. But she knew one thing.
This was no longer a game.
At least, not to her.
Marcus let his lips kiss the tips of her fingers softly before lowering her gloved hand back down to the table. His eyes lingered on hers for a full ten seconds before lowering back down to her hand. He decided right then and there to tease her as she’d teased him, despite his flushed face and pounding heart. “Your soup’s getting cold, Doctor Darcy.”
Even though she had gloves on, the skin of her fingers tingled, even as he lowered her hand.
"O-oh, yes." She took her hand away and picked up her spoon. She couldn't eat though. Her hand shook beyond being useful and her heart plummeted to her stomach, stealing her appetite.
What is with all this schmaltzy? He was teasing you, you dunce! she yelled within her mind, trying to stir up a rebuttal, a fiery challenging spirit. She forced herself to take a sip of her soup, trying to steel herself.
(good afternoon!)
Marcus's eyes drifted back and forth from his soup to Winnifred's face, that beautiful face. "You know, Winnifred," he started thoughtfully, electing to use her first name and her first name only, "I don't think I've ever met another woman like you. Or anyone like you, to be honest." And she was exceedingly unique, far from someone you would walk by on a regular afternoon.
((good afternoon! How are ya?))
Winifred looked up and said the first thing that came to mind. "Something tells me you haven't met many women …. But, I shall take that as a compliment, nonetheless." She gave a small smirk, the remark stoking her dignity a bit more.
Yes, Darcy! There we go!
(I'm good, you?)
Marcus responded with the raise of an eyebrow. His blush had faded by now, heartbeat returning to normal, giving him enough bravado to quip back. "Something tells me you haven't met many men, either." He was referring, of course, to the flustered way she had acted moments earlier when he'd taken hold of her hand.
Winifred waved a hand dismissively. "As you were saying, Marcus." She gave him a bored look, using his first name too.
I'm mean, if were getting that comfortable with each other…
Marcus's other eyebrow followed, somewhat disbelievingly. "I think that's the first time you've called me anything other than Lord Crenshaw or Stupid Brat," he grinned victoriously, "Does that mean I've done something right?"
Winifred shook her head. "I'm just trying to be friendly. Would you prefer 'stupid brat', because I do. It suits you more." She took another bite of her cucumber sandwiches.
Marcus chuckled lowly. "Funnily enough, you're not the first person who's said that to me. And what should I call you? Doctor? Or just Winnifred?"