He blinked and focused on Lily, noticing that her pale green dress really was quite lovely. The underskirt was white, the stomacher and sleeves sprinkled with little white rosettes. Very demure and aristocratic. His father would approve. He smiled. “Thank you. You look very nice, too.” She moved closer, sweeping him with an appreciative glance. “You look better even than at the baptism.” His smile widened at the memory. A special occasion, that baptism, and he’d dressed the part. The smile turned wry as he suddenly realized he’d dressed for his father this time, even going so far as to have hied himself off to a barber early this morning to have his hair properly trimmed. Ruefully he ran two fingers along his freshly shaved jaw. After all these years, he was still trying to impress the old goat. He briefly contemplated returning home to strip off his dove gray velvet suit in favor of one of the wool ones he usually wore, but they were running late already. Besides, the marquess was a stickler for gentility, and it certainly couldn’t hurt his case to look as prosperous as possible.
