She giggled. “That hardly counts. I certainly hadn’t been inebriated before I met you and now I’ve been so twice in one week. I hope you’re proud of yourself, Captain.”
Rafe’s voice held a note of amusement. “I believe you are currently experiencing what is commonly referred to as a fuzzy head.”
“Fuzzy head?” She lifted one hand and pressed it against her forehead.
“Yes. Not entirely drunken but not quite sober, either.”
She patted herself atop her head. “I like my fuzzy head. Quite a lot. And I quite like brandy as well.” She stretched and splayed her legs and arms across the bed like an X.
“I’m glad to hear it,” he replied with another throaty laugh.
Daphne snapped her fingers. “Let’s play a game.”
Rafe’s eyebrows shot up. “Cards?”
“No. No. Let’s play that game we played the other night but without the cards. I cannot concentrate on maths with my fuzzy head.”
“What game?” he asked, his brow furrowed.
She waved a hand in the air. “You know. The question game.”
“Pardon?”
She turned to face him. “I’ll ask you a question and you must tell the truth and then you ask me a question and I must tell the truth.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “That’s not precisely how it went.”
“Don’t be so stuffy. I’ll even allow you to go first.”
“Stuffy?” His voice was full of effrontery. “Me?”
“Yes, now go on. Ask me something, anything. I promise to answer truthfully.”
“Very well.” He paused for a few moments. “Why did you pick Lord Fitzwell? From your list?”
Daphne blinked dumbly. Her head was fuzzy indeed. “Why would you ask something like that?”
Rafe’s grin was downright devilish. “That’s not an answer, and you promised to answer truthfully.”
She sighed and stretched again. Better not to look at him. Yes. Much better. Er, safer. “So I did. Let’s see…” She tapped a finger along the tip of her nose. “I picked him because he met all my requirements.”
“Your requirements?”
“Yes. On my list.”
“And what requirements were those?” Rafe leaned against one of the posts and crossed his stockinged feet at the ankles.
“You know, titled, rich, handsome,loyal.”
“So, it’s safe to say, I’m not on your list. I only have two of those four requirements.”
She shrugged one shoulder, steadfastly ignoring his claim and vowing not to guess which two he thought he had. “It’s the type of list a lady must make when looking for a suitable husband.”
Rafe narrowed his eyes on her. “But you don’t even know Lord Fitzwell.”
“I knew him as well as most ladies know their future husbands. I knew his family. I saw him from time to time at various events about town. We even went riding in the park once or twice.” She punctuated her sentence with a firm nod.
“Once?” Rafe’s voice dripped with skepticism.
