“Well, she doesn’t show any signs of grief, although he’s still in the country. She has four or five constant beaux—they accompany her everywhere, hanging from her every word. I hear that they are betting in the clubs that she will take Lord Winkle.”

“I’m glad,” Charlotte said decisively. “She’s a lovely girl and she deserves to be admired.”

As Sophie chattered on about the particular snub that Lady Skiffing dealt Camilla Prebworth, the wife of Captain Prebworth, Charlotte’s mind wandered to Alex. She knew exactly where he was. He had been pulled into his study by his long-suffering secretary, Robert Lowe, to deal with the correspondence that had built up over the last months.

Just then her husband appeared at the door, and Charlotte’s face unknowingly lit up.

“Alex!” she cried, springing up from her chair.

Alex winked at Sophie, whom he had come to like a great deal over the two insufferably long months of his engagement, took his wife in his arms, and slowly, deliberately, backed out of the door of the salon.

Sophie’s clear laughter echoed after them as Alex stood in the marble hallway of Sheffield House, passionately kissing his bride until her knees trembled and she clutched the front of his coat.

“Alex, we must return to the salon,” she whispered. “I can’t just leave Sophie alone like this. It’s too impolite.”

“Swear that you’ll meet me in one hour, in our chambers.”

“I shall not.”

“Swear that you will or I won’t allow you to return.” Alex traced a fiery path down Charlotte’s throat to the rapidly beating pulse at its base. He licked it, and she almost moaned out loud.

“Alex!”

“Swear!”

“No. I have an appointment to visit Madame Carême in two hours.”

“I’ll get you there,” Alex promised hoarsely. “I’ll drive you in the phaeton.” He showed every sign of going even lower in his outrageous kissing.

“I swear,” Charlotte finally gasped.

But her husband wasn’t listening. Having ascertained that there were no footmen stationed in the hallway at the moment, Alex was craftily trying to maneuver his wife against the wall. The moment he had her back to the wall he crushed his body against hers, thrusting his knee between her legs and grinning down at her wickedly. His hands swept down her back and cupped her buttocks, pulling her up against his erection. Charlotte’s bottom was so curved and delicious that Alex could have wept.

The next second his wife pushed him away indignantly, although Alex noted with satisfaction that her hands were trembling and her cheeks were deeply rosy.

“Alex!” Charlotte snapped.