“I’ve a mind to take you over a table in the library,” Daniel muttered.
“Oh!”
“Exactly like that,” Dahlia said as she continued to stare at her father’s ghost.
“What? When?” David asked, confused.
“When she’s in the throes of passion, she says ‘oh’ just like that.”
“Justyouwait,” he replied dryly.
“What?”
“For when you experience such intense pleasure that you will allow a man to do anything to you. Almost anywhere.”
Danielle blinked before she gave him a quelling glance. “I doubt that.”
“I am a betting man, and I’m willing to wager—”
“Enough!” Daniel interrupted.
“More than enough that you will come to learn that I am telling the truth,” David went on, ignoring his younger brother.
“Damn you, David. These areyourdaughters. I have tried to ensure they’ve been raised as proper young ladies. Now you’ve probably gone and undone over twenty years of careful, deliberate, and expensive education,” he accused, his thoughts going to the tuition for Warwick’s Grammar and Finishing School and the modiste they employed for their annual wardrobes.
“Nonsense,” David replied. “These two are sensible young ladies.” He turned to the twins. “You are sensible, are you not?”
They both nodded, although given David’s natural tendency to make people do as he pleased, they might have only responded as he expected.
“So what are you looking for in husbands?” David asked as he crossed his arms.
“I want one like Sir Benjamin,” Dahlia announced.
David furrowed his bushy brows, which is exactly what his twin was doing. “I don’t recall a Sir Benjamin,” he whispered.
“Earl of Wadsworth’s younger son. Discovered a comet and earned a knighthood as a result,” Daniel murmured. “Married Torrington’s daughter before this Christmas past.”
This bit of news had David’s eyes rounding. “Milton Grandby sired achild?”
Daniel nodded. “Twins, in fact. His heir has already accepted a writ of acceleration and will be present for this next session of Parliament.”
“So one of my daughters could marry the Torrington heir,” David announced with a huge grin. “Capital!”
“They cannot,” Daniel countered. “He married the Earl of Wellingham’s daughter at the same time his twin sister married Sir Benjamin.”
David blinked. “Well, what about the Earl of Trenton’s son?”
“The oldest—the illegitimate one—married a potter he met at the British Museum, and the youngest is too young to marry,” Clarinda commented.
Undaunted, David said, “Morganfield’s son, Christopher. He must be a bit long in the tooth by now, but—”
“Married to Alistair Comber’s daughter, Juliet.”
As if he expected a marquess’ son might still be available, he said, “Stephen Slater, Earl of Bellingham. Naval admiral, by now.”
“Married to the daughter of the Earl of Greenley,” Clarinda murmured. “He hasn’t been in the Navy for nearly twenty years. And he’s living next door to the Earl of Gisborn in Oxfordshire, since Gisborn is married to his sister, Hannah.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t have suggested Gisborn,” David said as he waved a hand. “He’s a farmer.”
