Pru’s voice interrupted her thoughts, reminding her she was surrounded by her sisters whilst she gathered wool. They had all congregated in one chamber to ready themselves for dinner that evening. And she had no wish for her ever-perceptive sisters to know what was troubling her. If she had to explain, she would have to mention the shocking lapse of propriety in which she had engaged, along with the liberties she had allowed…
Liberties that made her heart pound and desire flare to life deep in her core once more. She had never kissed a rake, but she was certain not even the wickedest rake in the realm’s kiss could compare to Gill’s. He kissed her as if he wanted to brand her with his lips, as if he wanted to keep her in his arms forever.
Because he did.
He wanted to marry her.
Blast.
She forced a smile to her lips and attempted to look nonchalant as her sisters watched her, their expressions expectant. “Yes, dearest sister?”
“I asked you how your ankle is feeling,” Pru said pointedly. “Are you sure you are well? You seem distracted this evening.”
“The Duke of Coventry proposed,” she blurted. “I declined.”
“He did?” Pru’s brows rose. “You did?”
“When?” Eugie and Bea asked.
“Why?” Bea added. “Why would you refuse him, I mean to say. Not why would he propose to you. Clearly, he would propose to you because you are beautiful and the duke knows a wonderfully intelligent, kindhearted lady when he sees one.”
“Did he write his proposal in a letter?” Grace queried dryly, cutting through sweet Bea’s kindness in her own way.
Christabella sighed. So much for wishing to keep the information to herself. Not ten minutes into being surrounded by her beloved sisters, and she was telling them all her secrets. As one did with one’s sisters.
“Yesterday,” she admitted, answering Eugie and Bea’s questions first.
“Before or after your injury?” Pru asked shrewdly.
“Both.” The instant the word left her, she winced.
All her sisters began chattering at once.
“How many times has he proposed?”
“Where you alone with him?”
“Has he ruined you?”
“Did he actually speak?”
Christabella blinked as she tried to make sense of which sister had asked what question. “He has proposed twice, Pru. And yes, Bea, I was alone with him. No, Eugie, he has not ruined me. And Grace, Coventry is fully capable of speaking. Indeed, he speaks quite eloquently when he wishes. He simply struggles in gatherings. His struggles were no match for me, however. I made my way through them with tickling, snowballs, and good sense.”
Also, kissing.
She refrained from mentioning that last bit.
And then she realized her sisters were all eying her in a similar fashion.
Her cheeks went hot. “Why are you looking at me thus?”
“Of course it would be you.” Grace was the first to speak, shaking her head.
“What do you mean?” she demanded, the tips of her ears feeling quite hot by now. “Of course what would be me?”
“Surely you can see the irony,” Grace said gently. “You are the sister who, of us all, has vowed to snare a rake. And yet, you have lost your heart to a man who scarcely even speaks, let alone charms anyone.”
He had charmed her.
