Emily was crestfallen that evening when she was informed by her mother that Lord Brighton would be calling at their home in a few hours.
"What could he possibly want to come here for, mother?" she ground out, unable to contain her irritation.
"Now, Emily," he mother cautioned, "that is no way to speak in regard to the man you are going to marry. He deserves a bit more respect from you."
“Respect.” Emily scoffed at the word. She could hardly imagine any word more unsuitable to relate Lord Brighton with than that. How was she supposed to respect him when she knew for a fact that he was a liar?
“Anyway,” her mother said, “you will be pleased to know that the duke has sent some flowers earlier today, and he directed them to you. I’ve had them in the drawing room so that they will be in f
