hovering over the contents.
Charles got down on one knee in front of her.
“Miss Colville?”
“Mmm?” Susan had popped a large chocolate into her mouth and her eyes closed into slits of pleasure.
“Will you do me the very great honor of accepting my hand in marriage?”
“Yes, have a chocolate.”
He sat down beside her on the sofa and looked at her ruefully. “Did you really hear what I said?”
“Oh, yes, you offered me marriage and I accepted.” Her fingers hovered over the box. He gave an angry little click of annoyance, took the box away from her, and laid it on the sofa on the side away from her. Susan pouted.
“Kiss me, Susan.”
“If I kiss you, Charles, may I have another chocolate?”
“Yes,” said Charles impatiently, trying to banish a bleak picture of having to entice his wife into the marriage bed by leaving a trail of chocolates leading up to it.
He took her gently in his arms and kissed her soft mouth. Susan sat very still in his embrace, feeling all sorts of new and sweet sensations surging through her. She mumbled something incoherent against his mouth and suddenly wound her arms around his neck and kissed him back, sending them both swimming away into a world of sweetness. At last he raised his mouth from hers and said huskily, “Would you like a chocolate?”
Susan gave him her blinding smile. “More kisses, please,” she said.
Harriet, entering the drawing room, stopped short in amazement at the sight of the abandoned couple. She coughed loudly and they broke apart, Charles leaping to his feet, his face flaming. “I—I am so s-sorry,” he stammered.
“Think nothing of it,” said Harriet, looking at her flushed and happy niece. “Are you engaged to be married?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Then, as I have things to do, perhaps you might like to take Susan for a drive, and when you return, I will give you her parents’ address.”
“I can do that,” said Susan with a gurgle of laughter. “In fact, I will go with Charles.”
“That will not be suitable,” said Harriet, “unless I go with you, and I do not wish to make the journey at the moment.” She then felt guilty, for there was really nothing to keep her in London. But for some reason she would not admit to herself, she did not want to go.
When a thoroughly besotted Charles Courtney was driving his love toward the park, he suddenly remembered the earl’s request.
“My darling,” he began.
“Cannot you kiss me again?” demanded Susan impatiently.
“Not in the middle of a busy London street, but we will have plenty of opportunities. I have something to talk to you about concerning your aunt.”
“Aunt Harriet?”
“Dangerfield has an interest in her.”
“Then he has no hope. She slapped his face.”
“Because he called her a withered spinster. Now he wishes our help in ingratiating himself back into her good graces.”
“I should think the damage is irreparable, but we will try. Oh, why, there he is!”
Lord Dangerfield drew his carriage alongside. “I am to marry Charles,” said Susan sunnily.
“My felicitations,” said the earl.
“And I am out here and Aunt Harriet is at home alone.”
“I doubt whether she will receive me.”
“Then you may say you are calling on me and she will see you then in order to give you a jaw-me-dead about leaving me alone and to tell you I am betrothed to Charles.”
Lord Dangerfield drove off. He could not imagine why he should want so desperately to renew his friendship with such as Harriet Tremayne. But he did know he felt he had behaved disgracefully. He would go. She would see him. And she would accept his humble apology or he would ram it down her throat!
Chapter Six
When Harriet heard that Lord Dangerfield had called, she was about to tell her butler to send him away, but assuming he had really called to
Charles got down on one knee in front of her.
“Miss Colville?”
“Mmm?” Susan had popped a large chocolate into her mouth and her eyes closed into slits of pleasure.
“Will you do me the very great honor of accepting my hand in marriage?”
“Yes, have a chocolate.”
He sat down beside her on the sofa and looked at her ruefully. “Did you really hear what I said?”
“Oh, yes, you offered me marriage and I accepted.” Her fingers hovered over the box. He gave an angry little click of annoyance, took the box away from her, and laid it on the sofa on the side away from her. Susan pouted.
“Kiss me, Susan.”
“If I kiss you, Charles, may I have another chocolate?”
“Yes,” said Charles impatiently, trying to banish a bleak picture of having to entice his wife into the marriage bed by leaving a trail of chocolates leading up to it.
He took her gently in his arms and kissed her soft mouth. Susan sat very still in his embrace, feeling all sorts of new and sweet sensations surging through her. She mumbled something incoherent against his mouth and suddenly wound her arms around his neck and kissed him back, sending them both swimming away into a world of sweetness. At last he raised his mouth from hers and said huskily, “Would you like a chocolate?”
Susan gave him her blinding smile. “More kisses, please,” she said.
Harriet, entering the drawing room, stopped short in amazement at the sight of the abandoned couple. She coughed loudly and they broke apart, Charles leaping to his feet, his face flaming. “I—I am so s-sorry,” he stammered.
“Think nothing of it,” said Harriet, looking at her flushed and happy niece. “Are you engaged to be married?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Then, as I have things to do, perhaps you might like to take Susan for a drive, and when you return, I will give you her parents’ address.”
“I can do that,” said Susan with a gurgle of laughter. “In fact, I will go with Charles.”
“That will not be suitable,” said Harriet, “unless I go with you, and I do not wish to make the journey at the moment.” She then felt guilty, for there was really nothing to keep her in London. But for some reason she would not admit to herself, she did not want to go.
When a thoroughly besotted Charles Courtney was driving his love toward the park, he suddenly remembered the earl’s request.
“My darling,” he began.
“Cannot you kiss me again?” demanded Susan impatiently.
“Not in the middle of a busy London street, but we will have plenty of opportunities. I have something to talk to you about concerning your aunt.”
“Aunt Harriet?”
“Dangerfield has an interest in her.”
“Then he has no hope. She slapped his face.”
“Because he called her a withered spinster. Now he wishes our help in ingratiating himself back into her good graces.”
“I should think the damage is irreparable, but we will try. Oh, why, there he is!”
Lord Dangerfield drew his carriage alongside. “I am to marry Charles,” said Susan sunnily.
“My felicitations,” said the earl.
“And I am out here and Aunt Harriet is at home alone.”
“I doubt whether she will receive me.”
“Then you may say you are calling on me and she will see you then in order to give you a jaw-me-dead about leaving me alone and to tell you I am betrothed to Charles.”
Lord Dangerfield drove off. He could not imagine why he should want so desperately to renew his friendship with such as Harriet Tremayne. But he did know he felt he had behaved disgracefully. He would go. She would see him. And she would accept his humble apology or he would ram it down her throat!
Chapter Six
When Harriet heard that Lord Dangerfield had called, she was about to tell her butler to send him away, but assuming he had really called to
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