It Happened One Autumn: The Wallflowers, Book 2

“I like a long bat,” Lillian argued, even as he adjusted her hands on the willow handle. “The longer the better, as a matter of fact.” A distant snicker from one of the stable boys caught her attention, and she glanced at him suspiciously before turning to face Westcliff. His face was expressionless, but there was a glitter of laughter in his eyes.

“You’re a tyrant.” “I know. Drink some water.”

“Whatever comes of it, marrying her will be the least foolish thing I’ve ever done,” he replied, and took his leave of her with a shallow bow.

Marcus shook his head helplessly. “I’m sorry,” he rasped, even as he knew what he was about to do. “My God. Sorry—” His mouth clamped over hers, and he began to kiss her as if his life depended on it.

“You believe yourself to be in love with her.” “No,” Hunt countered in a relaxed manner, “I am in love with her.”

“I couldn’t have borne it,” he admitted, “seeing you married to anyone but me.”

“Where did you come from?” “Were my mother alive, you could ask her,” he replied pleasantly. “But I doubt she knew.”

“I’m trying to remember everything the countess told us,” she lied, “and keep it all straight in my head. Especially the bowing rules. If someone bows to me, I’m going to shriek and run in the opposite direction.”

Oh . . . pardon . . . I don’t think I’m supposed to say the word ‘stomach’ in front of a gentleman.” “I’m shocked,” St. Vincent said gravely, “but I’ll recover.”