“Edwina, that’s disgusting.”
Edwina brought her handkerchief to her face and blew her nose.
“But true,” she said triumphantly.
“It won’t last,” Kate muttered. “You’ll be sick as a dog by morning.”
“You’re probably right,” Edwina agreed, “but oh, what fun. He said he couldn’t help himself? Oh, Kate, that is just rich.”
“There is no need to dwell on it,” Kate grumbled.
“Do you know, but he might be the very first gentleman we’ve met all season you haven’t been able to manage.”
Kate’s lips twisted into a grimace. The viscount had used the same word, and they were both correct.
She’d indeed spent the season managing men, managing them for Edwina. And she suddenly wasn’t so sure she liked this role of mother hen she’d been thrust into.
Or maybe she’d thrust herself into it.
Edwina sa
