“I would never refuse an invitation from the duchess.” He glanced across the room in their parents’ direction, then looked down into her eyes as he turned her in the corner and led her back across the floor. “Or miss an opportunity to see you again.”
She ignored the butterflies in her belly, knowing his words were only empty flattery. “How odd, because Hartsfield is only a short ride from Elmhurst Park, and you returned to England in June,” she reminded him, an air of pique permeating her voice. “You’re a bit late in paying a call to close family friends.”
His smile faded. “I am, and for that I apologize. You know how much you mean to me.” He squeezed her fingers and added quickly, “How much all the Westovers do. But I had business to attend to at Elmhurst Park that kept me away.”
She d
