As far as he was aware, all the other guests were abed, but one never knew when someone might decide to sneak out for a late-night tryst of their own. The marquess’s wife, with whom he had partnered tonight at cards, had left him in no doubt that she was open to just such an assignation. To her pouting regret, he had turned her down, citing the proximity of her husband as his excuse for not taking her up on her most generous offer. By the time he’d left the card table, she was already flirting with another man, who seemed far more likely to accept. Hopefully neither of them would happen along and find him there in the corridor while he waited for Emma; he really didn’t want to be put to the bother of thinking up another excuse. As for Emma, she was late. He’d heard the clock strike two in the morning nearly ten minutes ago. Where is she? he wondered. Surely she isn’t going to stand me up? But then, just as he was wondering how difficult it would be to locate her bedchamber, a gentle brush-brush of slippers whispered through the silence.
What do You think about The Princess And The Peer?
