The morning of the big date found a sleep deprived Kit standing in front of the mirror, trying to figure out what to wear. They were going riding, no doubt, so he rooted through his outfits until he found a pair of breeches he rarely wore. Not because he hated the way he looked in them, but simply because they were a pain to keep clean. He did, however, look quite smashing in them, if he did say so himself. White with charcoal gray patches. He paired them with a two-tone grey shirt, grabbed his boots, and headed for the door.
Only to stop short.
They never discussed the finer details. Was he supposed to bring anything along to contribute or just expect Roman to provide everything? And if he did bring something, would Roman be offended? Chewing on his bottom lip, Kit glanced at his small
