Yikes.
Mental note: he was better at the comeback than me.
“Hello,fancypantsMarquess.Carling?”
There you go.He was way better with the comeback.
He grinned.
God, he was going to kill me.
Gorgeous, normally.
Knock-you-off-your-feet when he was happy.
The grin died and he said, “Not for now, but Carling sharedsome things that were concerning.Your mother’s return will cause a sensation.Your existence will as well.But it’s untoward me, or Father, or even Marlowstay with you.”
“Bummer,” I muttered.
“Pardon?”he asked.
“Um…nothing.It’s French,” I said hopefully.
“What?”
Oh shit!
“Fleuridian,” I amended.
“It is?”
“Do you speakFleuridian?”
“Fluently.”
Ah hell.
“Let’s stay on track, shall we?”I sidestepped and prompted,“You can’t stay.”
“Your mother would be an acceptable chaperone, but we have atownhome two blocks from here.There’d be no reasonwhywe’d bestaying, especially me, except one.You’ll have enough interest coming yourway, we don’t need to provide reason for more.”
Yet more proof they were prudish here.
Not fun.
“Right,” I replied.
“There’ll be guards at the front and back doors.”
Wait.
“Why?”
“Your father didn’t keep great company and regularly hadunsavory visitors.”
“Wonderful,” I said to the ceiling.
“Satrine,” he called.
