“No,” she managed at last. “There is no one I have in mind.”
“That is excellent,” Lady Emilia pronounced.
Felicity frowned. “It is?”
“Yes.” Her hostess beamed back at her. “I have already arranged for the perfect gentleman to meet you beneath the mistletoe in the library in half an hour’s time.”
Her heart plummeted to the soles of her slippers. “I am afraid I cannot. My Auntie Agatha would disapprove wholeheartedly.”
“Leave her to us,” Lady Aylesford said.
“My reputation,” she tried next. “I do not dare jeopardize it in such reckless fashion.”
“Nonsense.” Mrs. Hart made a dismissive gesture, as if she were chasing a fly. “We will make certain your reputation remains intact.”
She swallowed down a knot of uncertainty. How could she persuade this determined group of seven ladies that she had no wish to meet a gentleman beneath the mistletoe when she was hopelessly in love with another man? Her heart needed time to grieve.
“I cannot,” she said weakly.
“Wrong answer,” Genevieve said, grinning. “You can, and you will.”
