“Is going to bemybrother even before you are Danielle’s,” she whispered.
“Your uncle mentioned theirs was to be a quick wedding, but then, so must ours be.”
Dahlia paused before the door to allow Belvedere to help her with a mantle. “And why is that?”
“He says we must marry by the end of April,” Anthony replied as he helped himself to his top hat.
Grinning, Dahlia took his arm. “Well, that gives us... four weeks,” she replied, her eyes rounding slightly. Her gaze settled on Anthony’s, and the strangest sensation of excitement and anticipation passed through her.
She wondered why he was staring at her as if he was seeing her for the very first time. For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her again, but with Belvedere standing next to the open door, she knew he wouldn’t dare. This was Anthony Comber, Viscount Breckinridge. He wasn’t a rake or a rogue, a scoundrel or a libertine. He wouldn’t do anything improper.
Not yet, at least.
Inhaling slightly, she added, “Or less. I wouldn’t mind.”
Curious as to her apparent change of heart, Anthony merely nodded, and the two took their leave of Norwick House.
He waited until they were in the coach before he stole a kiss or two.
