bachelor.
“You don’t kiss and tell, do you?” Lord Maxwell asked Harry.
“Never,” Harry said, playing the gallant. He leaned over Athena’s hand and pressed it to his lips.
The good-natured bantering continued through Hildur’s turn. Lord Maxwell drew the short straw for her. Everyone laughed when Hildur came out and said, “Do not throw him to the sharks.”
Bunny was next. Captain Arrow was her partner. When she came out, she looked as beautiful as ever, but she said nothing. She simply smiled prettily. Sir Richard gave Captain Arrow the cold shoulder and pulled Bunny to him with a proprietary air.
Which left but Sir Richard and Viscount Lumley to draw straws. Molly and Joan still had to take their turns.
“Into the closet, Delilah,” said Harry.
No one moved.
Harry nudged Molly in the back.
Oh, yes! She was Delilah!
She entered the closet, which to her dismay she found completely empty. She was hoping to hide behind a pelisse or a man’s overcoat.
Dear God, don’t let Sir Richard be the one , she prayed.
Harry shut the door in her face, but before he did, she gave him a mute look of appeal. He, in turn, signaled to her with his gaze that she must endure.
Now she was alone. In the dark. Her knees began to tremble. She heard the wild laughter outside the closet, and then the “Oho!” which meant that some man had drawn a straw for her.
A moment later, the door opened and shut quickly. All she could see was the outline of a man’s head. She couldn’t tell if it was Viscount Lumley or the despicable Sir Richard.
She gulped, put her hands out in the dark, palms up, instinctively wanting to protect herself, especially if it were Sir Richard.
But her hands pressed against a very trim waist. It was Viscount Lumley. Thank God! Although she did not want to kiss him. At all .
“Wait!” she whispered.
“Why?” He grabbed her hands and squeezed them in a friendly way.
“I—I—” Her mind scrambled. What could she say that would make him delay the inevitable? “I wanted to ask after…your mother first.”
“My mother ?” he whispered, sounding flabbergasted.
“Yes, how is she?” Molly hoped his mother was still alive. No man could turn down answering a question about his own mother’s health!
“Actually, she’s quite well, thank you. Except for her gout. She and Father both get that on occasion.”
“Really?”
“Yes, they do. It’s a shame what old people go through, isn’t it?”
“Indeed.”
Their hands were still clasped.
“Do you have any brothers and sisters?” she asked him.
He had five, he said, and at her insistence, he told her the names and ages of each one, and whether or not they were married.
“Lovely,” she replied.
There was another pause.
“Are you ready?” he asked at the same time that she said, “Do you like a good cherry tart?”
“Hmmm, I suppose I do,” he said slowly. “Although I think I prefer apple. Why?”
She squeezed his hands back. “If Cook will let me in the kitchen, I’ll make you one.”
“I’ll look forward to that,” he said, utterly polite.
There was another pause. She felt sweat trickle down her back. The closet was quite stuffy. “It’s rather hot in here,” she said.
“Indeed,” he answered.
“They’re awfully loud out there, aren’t they?” A rhetorical question, really, but perhaps he would respond.
“They are,” he said.
And then someone opened the door. Their three minutes were up. Viscount Lumley dropped Molly’s hands, and they walked single file out of the closet, he first.
“Well?” asked Sir Richard.
The nosy-body.
Molly’s chest tightened. She didn’t like that Sir Richard seemed particularly interested in her, although perhaps she was imagining that.
“We talked,” Lumley said in a disbelieving voice.
“You talked?” Joan asked Molly.
Molly smiled. “Yes. He has a wonderful family.” She turned to the viscount. “Thank you, Viscount Lumley, for the scintillating
“You don’t kiss and tell, do you?” Lord Maxwell asked Harry.
“Never,” Harry said, playing the gallant. He leaned over Athena’s hand and pressed it to his lips.
The good-natured bantering continued through Hildur’s turn. Lord Maxwell drew the short straw for her. Everyone laughed when Hildur came out and said, “Do not throw him to the sharks.”
Bunny was next. Captain Arrow was her partner. When she came out, she looked as beautiful as ever, but she said nothing. She simply smiled prettily. Sir Richard gave Captain Arrow the cold shoulder and pulled Bunny to him with a proprietary air.
Which left but Sir Richard and Viscount Lumley to draw straws. Molly and Joan still had to take their turns.
“Into the closet, Delilah,” said Harry.
No one moved.
Harry nudged Molly in the back.
Oh, yes! She was Delilah!
She entered the closet, which to her dismay she found completely empty. She was hoping to hide behind a pelisse or a man’s overcoat.
Dear God, don’t let Sir Richard be the one , she prayed.
Harry shut the door in her face, but before he did, she gave him a mute look of appeal. He, in turn, signaled to her with his gaze that she must endure.
Now she was alone. In the dark. Her knees began to tremble. She heard the wild laughter outside the closet, and then the “Oho!” which meant that some man had drawn a straw for her.
A moment later, the door opened and shut quickly. All she could see was the outline of a man’s head. She couldn’t tell if it was Viscount Lumley or the despicable Sir Richard.
She gulped, put her hands out in the dark, palms up, instinctively wanting to protect herself, especially if it were Sir Richard.
But her hands pressed against a very trim waist. It was Viscount Lumley. Thank God! Although she did not want to kiss him. At all .
“Wait!” she whispered.
“Why?” He grabbed her hands and squeezed them in a friendly way.
“I—I—” Her mind scrambled. What could she say that would make him delay the inevitable? “I wanted to ask after…your mother first.”
“My mother ?” he whispered, sounding flabbergasted.
“Yes, how is she?” Molly hoped his mother was still alive. No man could turn down answering a question about his own mother’s health!
“Actually, she’s quite well, thank you. Except for her gout. She and Father both get that on occasion.”
“Really?”
“Yes, they do. It’s a shame what old people go through, isn’t it?”
“Indeed.”
Their hands were still clasped.
“Do you have any brothers and sisters?” she asked him.
He had five, he said, and at her insistence, he told her the names and ages of each one, and whether or not they were married.
“Lovely,” she replied.
There was another pause.
“Are you ready?” he asked at the same time that she said, “Do you like a good cherry tart?”
“Hmmm, I suppose I do,” he said slowly. “Although I think I prefer apple. Why?”
She squeezed his hands back. “If Cook will let me in the kitchen, I’ll make you one.”
“I’ll look forward to that,” he said, utterly polite.
There was another pause. She felt sweat trickle down her back. The closet was quite stuffy. “It’s rather hot in here,” she said.
“Indeed,” he answered.
“They’re awfully loud out there, aren’t they?” A rhetorical question, really, but perhaps he would respond.
“They are,” he said.
And then someone opened the door. Their three minutes were up. Viscount Lumley dropped Molly’s hands, and they walked single file out of the closet, he first.
“Well?” asked Sir Richard.
The nosy-body.
Molly’s chest tightened. She didn’t like that Sir Richard seemed particularly interested in her, although perhaps she was imagining that.
“We talked,” Lumley said in a disbelieving voice.
“You talked?” Joan asked Molly.
Molly smiled. “Yes. He has a wonderful family.” She turned to the viscount. “Thank you, Viscount Lumley, for the scintillating
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