“We cheated, though.” He folded the letter, a bitter-sweet taste in his mouth.
“It was the earl and my mother who did the cheating.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s true. And the important thing is that I can fight to have the women’s welfare bill approved.”
Angeline reclined on the bed in his bedroom.
He lay next to her and slipped a hand under her skirts. “I’m fully recovered. I hold a seat in Parliament, and we’re going to get married soon. I think this is the perfect time to be together.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to wait a little longer.” She jumped off the bed.
“What? No.”
“Yes. Wait.”
Royston scoffed when she locked herself in his private water closet.
A few long minutes later, she poked her head outside. “Close your eyes.”
“Done.” He did as she asked.
There was a swishing of fabric and other sounds.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes. Keep your eyes closed.”
“I will.” How sad.
But then again, he ought to woo her again. He was aware that hadn’t wooed her at all. Everything between them had happened without a proper courtship. He would change that.
“I have a surprise for you.”
He frowned. “Is it an object?”
“Er… no. It’s alive.” More fabric swishing.
“I’d love a dog.”
She chuckled. “You can open your eyes now.”
“I was thinking— bloody hell!” He couldn’t say anything else. He was shocked.
She wore only a flimsy nightgown that softly caressed her curves. Her dark-pink nipples puckered under the fabric, and her glorious hair was loose, falling in glossy curls to her waist.
“Is this like your hallucination?” she asked.
He licked his dry lips. “It’s better.” He didn’t even realise he’d jumped off the bed. “The nightgown looks fantastic. You look fantastic.”
He stretched out a hand to touch her, but she stepped back.
“Not yet.”
“Angeline,” he growled. “Please.”
She shook her head. “Lie on the bed.”
Scoffing and puffing, he did as told. Or tried to. He walked towards the bed while looking at her, and he didn’t see theottoman. He tripped and plopped down unceremoniously on the bed.
