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“I do love your mother,” Cecelia said.

“She’s very good at what she does,” Marcus said with a laugh.

If he wanted her nearly as much as she wanted him, he was sorely in need of attention. “I could sneak out tonight and come to you,” Cecelia said.

“He’ll hear you,” Marcus grumbled.

Cecelia heaved a sigh. They were doomed to wait a fortnight.

***

If Marcus got any harder, he would never be able to get up from the table. Even the servant shot him a sympathetic glance.

His mother made some more noise, and Marcus moved his chair back from Cecelia’s so that their legs weren’t touching beneath the table. To suit her father, he really should go sit on the other side of the table, but he couldn’t get up right now if he wanted to.

“I think your mother is choking to death in the corridor,” Cecelia laughed.

“She’s giving us fair warning,” Marcus said, rolling his eyes.

“If she hadn’t, they’d have walked in while your hand was up my dress,” she whispered, her face coloring prettily. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to kiss her until they were both naked and breathless and he was inside her.

“Bloody hell,” he groaned to himself.

“Might I suggest thinking about the ice sculptures your mother will buy for the wedding dinner, Mr. Thorne?” the servant said.

He motioned the servant forward. “Take Miss Hewitt’s plate over to the other side of the table, would you?” he grunted.

“Yes, Mr. Thorne,” the footman said with a smile.

Cecelia grumbled, but she went. The footman arranged her plate across from Marcus, and that was when her father and his mother walked back into the room.

“I’m so sorry,” his mother was saying. “I thought the roses needed some attention, but the gardener must have gotten to it before we got there. I regret wasting your time.”

“No harm done,” Mr. Hewitt said. He narrowed his eyes at Marcus. “Everything going well, Marcus?” he asked.

Well, I had my hand up your daughter’s skirt and you almost caught me, but aside from that… “Wonderfully,” Marcus said. “Did you sleep well?”

Mr. Hewitt arched a brow at Marcus. “Aside from a disruption or two.”

Marcus nodded.

“I hope we won’t have the same interruptions tonight,” Mr. Hewitt warned.

Marcus heaved a sigh. “Certainly not.”

Marcus would go mad before he got to hold Cecelia in his arms again.

“Certainly not,” Mr. Hewitt repeated.

His mother broke into their head-butting. “Cecelia, I thought you and I might be able to go shopping today.” Her eyes sparkled at Cecelia. His mother was up to something. He just didn’t know what.

“Of course,” Cecelia said. “When do you want to go?”

“Claire and Sophia are coming. We can go when they get here.” She winked at Cecelia.

Cecelia looked up at Marcus, a question in her eyes.

***

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