The earl scoffed. “Wrong,” he interrupted, his hands lifting to flutter as if in exasperation. “Now, back to my daughter, Dahlia. As a viscountess, she will enjoy invitations to card parties—which are quite the thing among the married ladies—as well as invitations to parlors and parties for which she isn’t currently on the guest list,” he explained. “She will find herself on an elevated plane compared to her current status.
“Sell her on that plan, secure her agreement to wed, and then, once all those married women who have experienced the marriage bed have convinced her of how wonderful it is, she’ll beg you to take her virtue.”
Anthony stared at his possible father-in-law. “And you think this will occur in my lifetime, sir?”
David opened his mouth to respond and then frowned. “Within a fortnight, more like,” he said. “Once her sister has apprised her of how much she’s enjoying the marriage bed, Dahlia will demand your presence in her bedchamber. Mark my words.”
His brows arching in shock, Anthony asked, “Lady Danielle has already wed?” He felt a momentary wave of disappointment on behalf of his brother, for he knew Andrew had held a candle for the younger Norwick twin his entire life.
“Well, she will be after your brother thoroughly ruins her. After tomorrow’s garden party.”
“What?!” Anthony took a step back, as if he’d been punched in the face.
The earl shrugged. “You needn’t act so surprised. He proposed to Lady Danielle earlier today. I just came from that part of the park,” David explained as he waved a gloved hand in the direction of the Serpentine. “If it’s any consolation, Danielle is as afraid of the marriage bed as Dahlia, but we’ve a plan to overcome her hesitation.”
“By ruining her at a garden party?” Anthony asked in dismay, throwing up his hands as if in defeat.
“Afterthe garden party,” David clarified. “Once Danielle has seen the townhouse your brother has arranged for them to live in, she’ll beg him to bed her.”
“Townhouse?” Anthony repeated, deciding he really was sounding like a parrot. “Whattownhouse?”
“Never mind the townhouse,” David said. “Focus on your proposal of a marriage of convenience with Dahlia. Get her alone during the garden party, off by one of the tall hedgerows, and secure her promise of marriage,” he encouraged. “Can you do that?”
Anthony placed a hand on the neck of his Irish walker in attempt to calm the impatient beast. They had been standing in the middle of the road for some time, although no other riders or carriages had attempted to access the King’s Private Road. “I will, sir,” he replied, his gaze turning back to discover that Lady Dahlia and the Norwick House groom were headed in his direction. In another minute, the two would be within speaking distance.
Realizing he didn’t wish to say anything else to the young lady—at least not until he’d had a chance to rehearse an amended marriage proposal—he turned to say his farewell to the Earl of Norwick and boggled.
The man had disappeared.
Furrowing his brows in confusion, Anthony first looked left and then right before quickly mounting the walker. Without a look back, he urged the horse into a gallop and headed out of the park, his plan for the following day forming in his mind’s eye.
