“You can take it as such,” she said with a teasing smile. He would not like to lose, she decided. But neither did she.
They entered the park gates and proceeded to the South Carriage drive, busy despite the drizzle. Carriages circled, and riders trotted down Rotten Row. Heads turned to view them, and many hailed the duke. Two men of a similar age to Charles strolled over to greet them.
*
Nellie laughed atone of Lawrence Frobisher’s witticisms. He had a repertoire of them for the ladies. It appeared Lawrence was better able to entertain her than Charles was. Damn it, but she was appealing when she laughed. Frobisher obviously thought so. Charles was torn between being captivated by that slightly abstracted air she adopted when wanting to evade him and a desire to have her really look at him as if she wanted him.
When she’d entered the salon to greet him with her dress undone and her hair in slight disarray, thoughts of her in his bed caused sudden heat to course through his veins. As he did up her gown, he fought the urge to pull her into an embrace and kiss her. Her neck seemed vulnerable, the skin velvety soft beneath his fingers. He almost pressed his lips there, but pulled himself up sharply, aware of where he was. He found it unsettling that it took so little for Nellie to light a firestorm within him.
Once they were married, things would settle down. He would have her nights, and she could spend her days writing poetry if she wished. Order would be restored.
“I like your friends,” Nellie said as they left the park, and the curricle rattled along the street. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes sparkled. “Mr. Frobisher is most amusing.”
“Yes, he can be on occasion.” When a pretty lady pays him attention.The damned roué, Charles thought, but not without some affection for a friend of long-standing. Women always took to Lawrence.
“I had luncheon with your father today.” He turned the horses into Grosvenor Street. “As you haven’t mentioned it, I assume he has yet to tell you that the cathedral has been booked for late July.”
She gasped. “Oh, so soon? I wonder what Mama will say.”
“Unfortunately, it was the only date that fits in with everyone. Your father agrees. Unless we wait until closer to Christmas.”
“Oh, no. Of course, we must accept it.”
He eyed the frown creasing her forehead. “I am sure your mother will rise admirably to the occasion.”
“Mama always does.”
Foolish to feel offended because she didn’t appear eager to wed him. “Yes, and should she like some assistance, my secretary is at her disposal. Prinny has offered his personal pastry chef, Marie-Antoine Carême, for the cake and the wedding breakfast.”
“That is most generous of the Regent. Mama will be thrilled,” she said. “I’m sure it will all be superb.”
Charles smiled, pushing away his pique. “I have been fortunate to sample some of Carême’s patisseries at the prince’s table. His pastry sculptures made from sugar and marzipan are calledpièces montéesand are quite spectacular.”
As if in anticipation, her tongue licked her bottom lip. “I do enjoy dessert.”
Charles cleared his throat and took a firmer hold of the reins. “Then I assure you, you will not be able to resist these.”
She laughed. “I have no intention of it.”
He visualized feeding her one. Licking the sugar from those full lips and allowed his mind to dwell on other possibilities as he drew the horses to the side of the curb.
“Ah, there is Reilly,” he said, turning to her. “Still remarkably hale and hearty.”
She wrinkled her nose at him.
He chuckled as he helped her down and escorted her inside. Alone in the salon, they took seats by the fire.
Nellie rang for tea. “Mother is resting with a megrim. She will be very sorry to have missed you.”
“I hope she recovers soon.” He took the armchair opposite, crossed his legs, and studied her. The misty weather had made those stray wisps curl against her cheek. He studied his hands, resisting the temptation to reach across and tidy them. “When I am free to do so, shall we honeymoon in Italy? A friend, Baron Giordano, has offered us his villa in Venice.”
“Visiting Italy has long been a dream of mine.”
“We can travel around the country, visit Rome, Florence…”
“Oh, Charles!” Her warm smile embraced him. “How wonderful!”
He was gratified to have pleased her. “I have engagements which keep me in London for the rest of this week, but then I should like you and your parents to join me at Shewsbury Park. My mother writes she is unable to come to London at present. Something of importance keeps her in Leicestershire.” Although he couldn’t imagine what would be more important than meeting his fiancée.
