Chapter sixteen

Chapter sixteen

The Marquess grinned warmly while he looked at her, an act that was the direct definition of temptation. Why did all the English Monarchs have to be sinfully beautiful?

While Monica still found herself gawking at the dark hair of the Marquess of Bellingham, she heard him ask, "Apart from that, is there anything more?"

Monica tried to remember what they were even talking about. Her eyes automatically travelled to what the man looked at. While both watched the lawn below them, Philip practiced archery with such dexterity you would think he was born with it. Then she remembered what they were talking about.

With a forced smile, she sent Earl Robinson a suspicious glance and replied, "There's nothing more my Lord. I barely know the Duke."

He seemed to nod his agreement to that and resume studying the Duke, "That is one thing I will have to correct."

"Excuse me," the lady squeaked with a confused frown, "And what does that even mean?"

The Marquess just kept on grinning, no