Chapter 2 (cont.)
Well, perhaps thinking wasn’t the issue. Her head insisted she should move away, but her body... She drew in a deep shuddery breath, filling her lungs with his scent, a heady mix of brandy, damp broadcloth, eau de cologne, and...man.
A heavy liquid warmth settled low in her belly.
Oh, God. She’d never felt this way before, even when she’d thought herself in love with Brentwood. It could not be good.
“I will see if I can train Harry to behave in a more gentlemanly fashion,” Mr. Parker-Roth was saying. “As I’ve been in London and Lady Anne’s been in the country, I haven’t had the opportunity until now to do so--and of course manners in the country are more relaxed.”
“Indeed they are, sir,” Lady Dunlee said, scowling at him, “but I hope manners are not so relaxed as to approve the behavior I just witnessed in the square. You know, if Lady Anne does not, that London society will not tolerate such conduct.”
Mr. Parker-Roth didn’t let Anne squeeze a word in. “I beg your pardon for my lack of decorum, Lady Dunlee. I can only plead temporary insanity. I’d not seen Anne in far too long.” Mr. Parker-Roth managed to look suitably contrite--he’d probably perfected that charmingly apologetic expression as a boy.
Good Lord, Lady Dunlee dimpled up at him. “Of course you have my pardon, sir, as long as I have your vow to control your emotions in the future. I quite understand the fervor of young love.”
Anne had to choke back a laugh, turning it into a cough. Lady Dunlee had at least forty, if not fifty, years in her dish. Young love must be a very faint memory.
“But I would be terribly remiss,” Lady Dunlee continued, “if I didn’t point out many people will wonder at this sudden betrothal. You can’t wish to make things more difficult for Lady Anne and her family.”
“Of course I don’t.”
Anne barely heard Mr. Parker-Roth’s words. Many people would wonder? What a horrifying thought.