Page 71
“Generations of elected officials for quite some time.”
The lieutenant governor joined them, and although he placed a hand on his wife’s back, his eyes were already combing over Charlotte’s dress. “What nasty business are we speaking about now?”
“The Walsh family of Stone Haven,” Torr said. “And since you’re already intimately acquainted with my girlfriend’s dress—I mean, with my girlfriend, I’ll introduce myself—”
For a second, Charlotte thought she must have misheard him, but judging from the lieutenant governor’s red cheeks, she’d heard Torr loud and clear. And so had they.
“Torr Derrickson, or the 18th Marquess of Beves, if you prefer.”
Now the poor man was sputtering. “Sir . . . that is—”
“My lord,” Torr corrected, his tone akin to a king’s. Or what she imagined a king would sound like if she ever were to encounter one.
“My lord, I . . . I’m pleased to meet you.”
Charlotte stifled a giggle.
“We were discussing the Walshes of Stone Haven,” Torr transitioned smoothly. “Do you know of them?”
Clearing his throat, the older man nodded. “I do. Odd family.”
“Odd? How so?”
Charlotte had met Pennsylvania’s lieutenant governor on multiple occasions, and never once had he struck her as the nervous type. But perhaps that was simply Torr’s effect on people.
“They had some strange ideas about aliens or some such nonsense. Brilliant businessmen though—”
“There you are. Darling, I do hope you’re keeping Mr. and Mrs. Bitner entertained?”
Her mother.
“I dare say just the opposite is true,” Torr drawled. “They’ve been keeping us most entertained.”
Charlotte sighed. It was going to be a long night, caught between Torr’s teasing and her mother’s seething glances.
“But if you’ll excuse us, Charlotte promised to give me the grand tour.” He took her arm and inclined his head, pausing to shoot a final glare in Mr. Bitner’s direction.
“What are you doing?” she whispered as they walked through the house.
“Rescuing you.”
“More importantly, how did you know this was the way to the patio?”
Sliding past coiffed guests, they reached an alcove between the east wing and the pool house.
“I could hear the water,” he said, nodding to the waterfall.
And here she thought he’d been solely focused on her. Incredible.
Torr took her wine glass and placed it on a concrete retaining wall. She shivered, her bare arms exposed to the chill of the elements.
“Come here.”
He wrapped his arms around her, and Charlotte closed her eyes and leaned back, savoring his touch. “I’m sorry about my parents—”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said above her, his head nestled nearly atop hers.
Charlotte pulled back to see his face. “Marquess?”
