“Ruin her. Pleasure her. Make love to her. Prove to her she cannot live without you. Gain her agreement to wed, and then marry her.”
As much as Andrew had thought the earl was testing him—teasing him in an effort to trap him in some sort of tawdry scam to prove he was unworthy to be Lady Diana Dorothea’s husband—he now realized the man was serious.
“All right. Tomorrow. I’ll whisk her away during the garden party. That will give me tomorrow night and all day Sunday and Monday... part of Tuesday—”
“Gads, son, it shouldn’t take you more than an hour to prove yourself,” David said.
Andrew relaxed some. “Of course, sir,” he replied, not exactly sure he could accomplish what the earl was suggesting. Especially in only an hour.
David furrowed his bushy brows. “Youdoknow how to pleasure a woman, I hope? Learned something of the Roman arts?”
Andrew blinked before he scratched his brow. “I’m sure I can manage, sir,” making a mental note to pay a visit to the Aimsley House library. He was fairly sure he could find a few books on the topic.
“Then make the arrangements for the use of the townhouse,” David ordered before he paused, one finger lifted in the air. “In fact, you should let your father know you intend tolivethere when you’re wed. Extra incentive. Danielle having her own household and all.”
His eyes widening in understanding, Andrew said, “Yes, sir. I’ll see to it right away.” He gave a bow and turned to go. After a few steps, though, he thought to ask if David knew what Danielle’s favorite flower might be. A bouquet delivered from a hot-house florist could only help his cause. He spun around and stood, befuddled.
The earl was no where to be found.
