“An excellent notion!” the countess agreed.
Immediately, she called for the coachman and sent him over to Redver’s party with an invitation to join them. Eliza sent up a quick, desperate prayer Redver would decline. But it was too late. The party had already turned and started in their direction.
“He may have a scandalous past”—Millie glanced askance and raised her brows—“but I think he’s handsome.”
“Eliza thinks so, too,” Cassandra whispered.
She ignored them both. Mostly because what they’d said was true. Even when she’d thought him arrogant and evil, she’d found him hard to resist.
Wait.Thought? Past tense?
She sat up a little straighter.
Yes, thought. Past tense.
Her sentiments had undergone a shocking and thorough change.
Occasionally, he’d a gruff manner about him. And that way, distinctive to most aristocrats, of assuming his needs were of particular importance. But he’d served his country. He loved his sister. And he was on a mission to amend his reputation.
He smiled at her across the field.
She swallowed, forcing her heart back into her throat.
She feared what the next escalation in her sentiments would bring.
