“No,” confessed John. “I—I plan to, just as soon as Parliament finishes the debate and votes on the bill concerning pensions for returning soldiers.”
“I would think that passion would override practical matters such as politics,” murmured Cecilia. “Assuming, of course, that she stirs a passion in your heart.”
“We rub together well,” he answered.
“And yet, it seems the contact sets off nary a spark.”
“Fire and friction aren’t necessarily good in a marriage.”
“Neither are ice and a piece of marble so perfectly polished that it’s lost any hint of individuality.”
John expelled a low oath. “That’s unfair. You aren’t even met the lady yet.”
“So it is,” said Cecilia. She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. “My apologies. I promise that I shall keep an open mind.”
“Thank you.”
“I just want to see you happy, you know.”
“Ye gods, you think that at my advanced age I don’t know what will make me happy?”
His sister answered with an enigmatic smile. “I shall reserve judgment on that, too. Now come, the dowager is waiting.”
Chapter Six
You didn’t really say that,” exclaimed Caro.
“Oh, but I did,” replied Olivia. Setting down the coffee she had brought in from the breakfast room, she closed the door to the study.
Anna looked concerned, but Caro giggled. “Oh, Lud. I wish I could have seen the earl’s face.”
“He looked…well, I’m not precisely sure how to describe his expression. It was odd.”
“Dancing naked across the ballroom.” Anna tapped a pen to the tip of her chin. “Hmmm, come to think of it, that could make for an interesting scene in Count Rudolpho’s castle. My story has been getting a little boring since Emmalina escaped from the Barbary pirates. I need something titillating to liven up this next chapter.”
“Or I could use it as inspiration for a dark and dangerous poem.” Caro quickly got in the spirit of things. “Her pale flesh glistened in the firelight, a spectral beauty moving in rhythm with the jungle drums…” She paused. “I know, I’ll call it ‘The Hottentot of High Street.’”
Anna groaned. “Don’t you dare. Olivia is skirting on the edge of scandal as it is.” Fixing her eldest sister with a quizzing stare, she added, “You really shouldn’t have gone out of your way to be rude to the Earl of Wrexham. I’ve heard that the Perfect Hero is a real stickler for propriety.”
“Starchy?” asked Caro.
“
His shirtpoints probably stand up by themselves,” quipped Anna.
“Pffft. What a bore.”
Olivia pursed her lips. “Actually, I think he has a sense of humor, though he doesn’t wish to show it.”
“It won’t be remotely funny if he makes any disparaging comments about your conduct,” pointed out Anna.
“Afraid that your eccentric sisters might scare Lord Davies away?” asked Caro with a sly smile.
Two hot spots of color flared on Anna’s cheeks. “Of course not! That would be rather like the pot calling the kettle black.” She sighed. “I’m simply saying that it might be wise for Olivia to temper her tongue the next time she meets him.”
Olivia shrugged and went back to rearranging her notes. “Don’t worry, I’m not likely to engage in any intimate conversation with him again. The only reason we were together was because his sister forced him to ask me to dance. Given his druthers, I expect he’ll avoid me like the plague.”
For some reason the thought stirred a small frisson of disappointment deep within her chest. It had been rather fun crossing swords—verbal swords!—with the earl. He had been quick with his own retorts, and his attitude toward women was more enlightened than those of his fellow peers.