Lucien said nothing about her either way, but during a break in the game he stooped over Pippa’s crib and allowed her to teethe on the back of his knuckle. Not one of Alex’s unmarried friends would have known to do that. He himself had been a father for only a month, but he was continually amazed at the revolting habits propinquity to Pippa had led him to—such as allowing her to chew on his hand.

“I instructed the servants to clean up,” Alex said in his deep voice. “Shall we mimic the rest of the party and take a small walk?”

Charlotte hesitated only briefly before agreeing. They strolled silently for a while and then sat at the edge of the very willow pond where Will had earlier made his ill-fated marriage proposal. She and Will had naturally sat on the bench provided, but she and Alex just as naturally sat on the riverbank. Charlotte didn’t even consider the possibility of further damage to her gown. She sat primly, her arms wound around her knees, staring at the murky water.

Alex leaned back and put his head on his arms. He pretended to close his eyes but actually watched Charlotte through lowered eyelashes. She was sitting absolutely still. From his position on the ground he could see the slender curve of her back, leading up to her beautiful neck, and just a glimpse of long, curling eyelashes brushing her cheeks. There was no point in analyzing why he wanted her so much. He did, that was all there was to it. He wanted to run his tongue up that neck until she shivered with delight. And given that he needed a wife, the timing of this strange bolt of lust was all to the good. Charlotte would make a splendid, decorative countess, a delightful bed companion, and sooner or later she would be an excellent mother to Pippa as well.

He cast a swift look around. No one was within sight. “I suppose,” he said, “you must think me very odd to have tipped my child into your lap without notice.” Alex swung about to sit before Charlotte. “In fact, more than odd: blasted rude. Is this dress a fabulous French creation?” His hand slid over the strawberry stains on her knee.

Charlotte had been thinking about the afternoon, and had decided that she did not like being embarrassed.

“Oh, no,” she said sweetly. “I have no expectations whatsoever about your conduct.”

“Touché!” said Alex appreciatively.