AN EARL IS ALMOST TOO ENTHUSIASTIC
In front of Norwick House
“I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” Anthony murmured as he stopped before the front door of Norwick House.
One of her arms on his, Dahlia regarded him with a sympathetic grin. “There’s no need to be nervous. My uncle will be quite reasonable.”
The front door opened, revealing the butler. The older servant’s gray brows rose in surprise as he stepped aside.
“How do, Belvedere?” Dahlia asked as she entered. “Can you let the earl know Viscount Breckinridge wishes a word with him?”
“Is the earl even in residence?” Anthony asked, thinking Daniel Fitzwilliam might be at his club or about to go into dinner. He removed his hat, expecting to wait.
Belvedere gave a slight bow. “I’ll let him know you’re here, sir.”
Anthony and Dahlia watched as the servant made his way to the study, and when he disappeared from view, Anthony reached for Dahlia’s gloved hand. He lifted it to his lips. “Should I tell him you were the one to propose?” he asked in a teasing whisper.
“You could, but he wouldn’t believe you,” she replied without humor. “He’ll think you know something scandalous about me, and that’s how you convinced me to marry,” she added as she rolled her eyes. She nearly scoffed when she realized what she had done—picked up a most unladylike trait from the ghost of her father.
“Do I?”
Dahlia blinked. “Do you what?”
“Know something I shouldn’t?” Anthony asked in a whisper.
Scoffing, Dahlia couldn’t help the blush that colored her cheeks. “We’ve shared a coach without the benefit of a chaperone—”
“Your father was with us—”
“—and you’ve kissed me quite thoroughly—”
“Because your sister told me to.”
“—and I’ve kissed you quite thoroughly—”
“Notthatthoroughly,” he said with a smirk.
“—and we’ve spoken of,” her voice lowered to a whisper, “sexual congress.”
He grinned, glad for the quiet moment with her. He didn’t know quite why, but he loved seeing the color in her cheeks. Loved seeing how she could appear so vulnerable despite how she usually behaved—confident, bossy, and far too serious. Almost cold.
Perhaps that’s why he had always thought she would make a suitable countess. Why he hadn’t expected to ever have feelings for her beyond those of friendship and respect.
Seeing her like this—remembering how her lips had felt pressed against his—he had a thought that there was much more to Dahlia Davida Fitzwilliam than he knew. Why else would his cock be hardening at this very moment? Why else would he be experiencing an overwhelming desire to kiss her? To strip her bare? Take her to a bedchamber and prove to her she would enjoy the marriage bed?
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Dahlia asked in a whisper.
“Like what?”
Her eyes rounded. “Like you wish to eat me alive?”
Aware Belvedere was on his way back to where they stood, Anthony held up a gloved finger. “Hold that thought,” he said with a quirked brow.
“Wh...?”
“Lord Norwick will see you now, my lord,” Belvedere announced. He took Anthony’s hat and placed it on a shelf before turning around to lead Anthony through the hall and to the earl’s study.
Anthony gave Dahlia’s hand another quick peck before he disappeared, well aware she would probably remain just outside the door and attempt to eavesdrop on the proceedings. There was a strategically placed chair directly adjacent to the study’s entrance.
