Page 74 of Rogue’s Holiday

As the footman refreshed their Claret wine, the countess said, “I kept the dinner simple tonight, knowing neither of us would have a large appetite. I do hope you find it adequate.”

“More than adequate, my lady. In truth, this is a splendid repast.”

“For dessert, there will be Italian ices from Negri’s in Berkeley Square. A summer treat.”

“Truly? I love ices, all flavors.”

“Pistachio is my favorite,” said the countess with a smile, “but we have pineapple and jasmine, too.”

Chastity beamed her pleasure. It was easy to talk with the countess though she did wonder if she wasn’t being interviewed. She half-expected the countess to raise her quizzing glass to consider her again more closely.

As they shared a glass of Madeira after dinner—a wine the countess told her she kept on hand at all times—the countess fixed her with a steady gaze. “What think you of Sir Robert’s offer of marriage?”

Chastity let out a breath. She should have known the question would present itself at some point. “I hardly know what to think of it, my lady. ’Twas not even a proper offer. I recall no bended knee, no avowal of love. He merely kissed me—quite against my will, I might add—and informed me he would marry me.”

“Oh, dear.” The countess brought her palm to her chest. “I see he has gone about this all wrong. You are a romantic and must have a proposal that wins your heart.”

“I never thought to wed,” said Chastity. “On my twenty-first birthday, I will come into a family legacy, an estate of my own.”

“And you foolishly believe that will be enough? No, my dear, it never shall. A life alone is not a life fully lived, not for a woman. You must wed for you will want children, a family. Oh, I daresay it will take an unusual man, but Agatha would be quite dismayed to think you had no desire for marriage. You must reconsider.”

Chastity did not want to displease her hostess, the gracious woman who would see her back to Brighton. “At your urging, Countess, I will think on it.”