They walked past the road to Grosvenor Square and into Albemarle Square, where Charlotte lived, before she really even noticed. At her step she held out her hand coolly.

“Sir.”

Alex inclined his head. “Forgive me for not bowing. I’m afraid if I bow the wet patch on my shoulder will become apparent.”

Charlotte giggled despite herself. Alex caught her wrist in his free hand, pulling her hand up to his mouth. Rather than kiss the back he put her palm to his lips. Charlotte paled. The joyful glow she felt in her belly that morning spread tinglingly through her body.

“I shall see you tonight,” Alex said in a velvety deep voice, his eyes on hers.

Charlotte didn’t trust herself to say anything, so she drew her hand from his, nodded silently, and walked up her stairs. At the top she stopped, struck by a sudden thought. She turned about, her eyes pleading.

“You won’t get back up on that horse, will you, my lord?”

Alex looked at her and then at Pippa.

“No,” he said. “No, I won’t take Pippa on Bucephalus again.”

He smiled at her in such a way, Charlotte thought as she slipped past Campion at the door. It made his eyes crinkle; it spoke of … oh, kisses. Kisses and more.

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Eloise York, the Marchioness of Brandenburg, slowly descended the stairway of her husband’s town house, irritably smoothing her elbow-high gloves. She was displeased, she thought. Highly displeased. Eloise was a woman who understood her own consequence. She had an acute sense of propriety, a quality of which she was very proud. And somehow, through the cruelty of God, she had been given a wanton, silly chit for a daughter. When she was Sophie’s age she dressed only in white and bent her head docilely whenever a parent entered the room. She never met her father’s eye until she married. But Sophie! Had there been a moment when she didn’t boldly meet her mother’s eye and refuse to do whatever small thing her mama requested?

Take this afternoon, for example. When she, Eloise, had announced that they were to attend a tea party given by the Honorable Lydia Bingley, Sophie flatly refused, saying that she had scheduled an appointment with her tutor in Portuguese. Eloise couldn’t even think how many times she had pronounced that a young lady need only study how to find a husband. But Sophie obstinately kept refusing offers of marriage, and learning new languages.