‘Agreed.’
He scrutinised her expression and thought of the lively and forthright conversations they’d had and he didn’t think he could be wrong in his assessment of her. Although he didn’t always admire her choices, he admired her discretion.
She snorted, making her hair flutter. ‘Don’t forget to join us for cards. I love having a man of your age visiting me.’ She raised her brows. ‘Please be dishevelled as you leave.’
‘Only if you agree to have a chaperon.’
She let her eyes drift heavenwards. ‘Josephina, Millie and Meg will be there. That will give us enough to complete the table.’
‘Plan on it.’
He departed, ruminating on the misery a union could bring and the knowledge that he couldn’t put it off indefinitely.
His father had claimed matrimony to be much like thrusting oneself on to a blade, but the bloodletting was very necessary for the peerage.
If one must be impaled, Emilie would not be as bad as others. However, he was not so sure Emilie wouldn’t choose Nathaniel over him. But, still, his attention kept following her.
He strongly doubted Emilie could ever ignore a man’s indiscretions.
No, he suspected Emilie would react much as his mother had. Fire and brimstone.
Now he could not shut the memory of Emilie dancing from his mind.
She had swirled across the floor.
He forgot her elegance for a moment and could see the image of her creamy breasts above the bodice of her gown and realised instantly he must put his mind elsewhere.
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