“Andrew, my Mama would have a heart attack if she suddenly came down and saw us like this.”
The Duke of Grant stopped kissing her neck. “I thought your parents traveled to France?” he asked.
“They did, but they came back earlier than usual and have been in their chamber since their arrival.”
Andrew grunted. “Fine, I shall make do with kissing you.”
Marjorie giggled. “We should go somewhere with some more privacy.”
“Where do you suggest?”
“The drawing room.”
The Duke gestured for Marjorie to lead the way. “After you, My Lady.”
“Do you want a drink?” Marjorie asked with a teasing smile.
Andrew rolled his eyes. “No, thank you,” he said and settled into one of the chairs.
Marjorie sat beside him. “I wonder what would happen if anyone found out about us,” she said after a few beats of silence.
“What is wrong with us?” Andrew quizzed, turning to look at her.
Marjorie whacked him on the shoulder. “I mean it, Andrew. Have you never considered that once Ellen finds a suitable match, it will be your turn to get married as well?”
Andrew frowned. Marriage was not a subject he liked to think about. “I do not worry myself about such trivial matters,” he said offhandedly.
“Marriage is hardly a trivial matter, Your Grace,” Marjorie retorted.
“I am a man. I have more than enough time to think about the subject. And I can very well make my own choices, Marjorie,” he said, giving her a pointed look.
“Is that not the problem?”
“What is?”
“You have got time and the opportunity to make your own choices, but the ladies don’t have the luxury of any of that time.”
“Not all of them. You make your own choices every day,” Andrew scoffed.
“I am different. I have always been strong-willed, and I am fortunate enough to have parents who understand and respect my decisions regardless of what thetonsays. Not everyone is privileged to have the freedom I possess.”
“Why did you not get married on your first Season, Marjorie? Tell me,” Andrew asked after staring at her thoughtfully for a moment. “You are somewhat of a trouble, annoyingly so, but I also know that you had no lack of suitors.”
Marjorie laughed. “I certainly did not. But they were either terribly mannered or lacked wit enough to match mine.”
“I am certain you could have found a gentleman in London who would be so smitten by you that he would let you get away with anything.”
“That is true, but where is the fun in that?”
“Marjorie—”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Marjorie replied sweetly.
“Was it because of me?” Andrew asked.
Marjorie let out a short, derisive laugh. “Surely, you flatter yourself.”
Andrew grunted. “You are absolutely impossible.”
