That was yet another way her life had changed since he’d entered it.
She’d been kissed.
Thrice, in fact.
The first kiss had kindled her curiosity.
The second had confirmed the pleasure of the first.
But the third kiss…
Blimey.
A kiss should be like this.
The third kiss had revealed the previous two kisses to be mere shadows of a kiss.
She hadn’t known a kiss could unsettle the very foundations below a person’s feet.
But really, that was only the beginning of what she hadn’t known a kiss could do.
A kiss should be hot and messy and desperate.
And that was precisely what the third kiss had been—hot…messy…desperate.
Fingers that yet held a residual tremble reached for the top letter in the correspondence tray.
Anything to distract herself from that kiss.
It preyed too much on the mind.
As she thumbed through missive after missive, it was exactly as she’d thought. Invitations, with a few bills for Lydon sprinkled in—of course. It was a good thing her father was a peer of the realm, for if he hadn’t been, he’d likely be serving a decades-long sentence in the Marshalsea for debt.
The next missive produced a smile as she lifted rich cream parchment to her nose.Honeysuckle.Just as she’d instructed.
She snapped the crimson wax seal on the invitation and took in the gold-embossed contents she’d dictated, word for word:
To the most esteemed Lady Beatrix St. Vincent:
The pleasure of your company is most cordially desired
at the
Primrose Park estate
of
Mr. Blake Deverill
Entertainments will commence on
28 July
and conclude on
1 August
Beatrix’s eye caught on a word, and her brow lightly crinkled.
