Inadvertently, her mind conjured a masculine countenance with stormy gray eyes, a rebellious curl, and a passionate mouth curled in a smirk.
“How do you know?” she asked her sister as they tiptoed from the room.
“How do I know what?” said Violet, holding the knob so that it didn’t click while she closed the door.
Daisy stopped in the hallway beside a life-size portrait of Lady Hollibrook. “If you’ve found a person worth marrying.”
“It depends.” Violet leaned against the wall. “Is this arealperson, or another wounded animal that you’re determined to save?”
“If you’re going to mock me–”
“All right, all right. Heavens.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re testy this evening. I cannot answer your question directly, because I haven’t found my husband yet…although I must say, I danced with the Duke of Argyle, and he’sveryhandsome.”
“A marriage cannot be based solely on physical appearance.”
“You don’t want to wake up beside a man that you’re not attracted to for the rest of your life, do you? No, I didn’t think so,” Violet said when Daisy remained silent. “When you kiss him, or he kisses you, you’re meant tofeelsomething. Butterflies in your belly. A tingling in your toes. Lightning in your heart. And that’s partly how you know that you’ve found him.”
Butterflies,
Tingling.
Lightning.
When Everett had kissed her, she’d feltallthose things…and more.
When Everett had kissed her, the entire world–her world, at least–had shifted on its axis and an entirely new continent had been discovered. A continent brimming with wonder and pleasure the likes of which she’d never even knownexistedbefore.
Oh, she knew about kissing. She’d seen both her sisters do it, and had even witnessed a chaste peck between her parents a time or two. Due to her curious nature and penchant for reading, she also knew about copulation. The basics, anyway. What went where and how insemination occurred and so forth. She wasn’tcompletelynaïve. But when Everett had used his tongue to kiss her, well, thatwasnew information. As was the knowledge that she’d liked it.
She’d like it very much.
But where did she go from here?
How did she turn a mind-blowing kiss into something…more?
“If attraction is only part of it, what other parts do you need?” she asked earnestly. “And how do you get them? Violet, tell meeverything.”
“Very well.” Her sister held up her hands, her fair brow knitting. “I’m glad that you’re finally showing an interest in matrimony, as you should, but there’s no need to jump down my throat about it. In addition to mutual attraction, there should also be some shared common interests. Hobbies and the like. You may want separate bedchambers, as Mother and Father have, but I doubt you’d want completely separate lives.”
“No,” said Daisy, shaking her head. “I wouldn’t want that.”
“Then I suppose you’ll have to find a suitor that likes bug collecting or some other such nonsense.”
“I don’t collectbugs.”
“What about those ants you kept in a sand jar?”
“I was merely transporting them after their nest was destroyed,” she said defensively. “They’ve a poor reputation for being pests, but did you know that a single ant can aid in the decomposition of up to thirty–”
“I can assure you that I don’t care,” Violet interrupted. “And I am not standing up here, in the dark, wasting time I could otherwise be spending with the Duke of Argyle, to discuss any creature that has more than two legs! Do you want to know what traits a husband needs to have or not?”
“That’s not exactly–”
“Handsome,” she said, ticking off her fingers. “Similar recreational pursuits. Moderate intelligence.”
“Why only moderate intelligence?” Daisy wondered.
Violet gave her a pitying glance. “Because any man of high intelligence would realize how intelligentyouare and they’d never dream of marrying you. Did I say handsome?”
