Chapters (46)
- Front Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Contents
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Epilogue
- Author’s Note
- Acknowledgments
- Back Cover
“A good plan. And much more fun to execute when not doing it alone or with one’s big brother tagging along.”
“I, for one, wouldn’t mind if your big brother tagged along, but I can understand how it might hinder you,” Miss Bronson said cheekily. “So, we may have to abandon him.”
“Abandon whom?” Morgan asked as he offered each a glass of lemonade.
Joan took a sip of the cool refreshment and bit back a laugh at Miss Bronson’s wicked expression.
“You, my lord,” she quipped before she took a sip of lemonade.
Morgan paused and blinked twice. “Pardon?”
Miss Bronson angled her head and studied him with a teasing glint in her eyes. “If we are to collect a few more names for our dance cards, we need to abandon you.”
“And here I thought I was an asset rather than a liability.” He narrowed his eyes playfully at Miss Bronson.
Was he flirting? Joan watched him. She’d never seen her brother flirt. She was certain he knew how, of course, but…knowing and actually witnessing were two separate things.
“To some you are an asset and to others a liability, and I must defer to my friend’s judgment here, so I’ll bid you adieu.” Miss Bronson locked arms with Joan, smiling cheerfully.
Joan hitched a shoulder. “She’s right, and since it is the season and this is the goal…”
“Very well. I’d hate to be a hindrance to the progress of women, especially on the marriage mart.” He raised his glass as if toasting them. “I’ll be over here, in case you change your mind and decide you require my presence.”
“Understood,” Miss Bronson replied, nearly saluting with her words.
Joan all but rolled her eyes, and Miss Bronson pulled her away. When Joan looked back to her brother, she noticed that he wasn’t watching her, but was curiously watching Miss Bronson’s retreat.
Which she found excessively intriguing.
And interesting.
Fascinating enough, actually, that it distracted her from her own feelings of interest in the very person she wished had attended.
The person she’d found fascinating.
But as she endeavored to fill her dance card, she had a thought.
Perhaps he didn’t find her fascinating enough in return.
Seventeen
It had been a week.
Seven days since he’d seen both Morgan and Joan, and it had bloody well felt like a year.
Rowles had stayed true to his word and kept away from the social scene, which had somehow led to further speculation about his mother, as was evident in a recent Tattler article.