Michael wondered what the legal ramifications were for strangling a knight of the realm. Surely nothing he couldn’t live with.
I’m not sure what his plans are today, Francesca said quickly. Michael had had an attack the night before-his ‘ fourth malarial fever, to be precise, and they were hoping it would be the last of the cycle. But even though he would be much recovered by now, he would still most likely look dreadful. His skin-thank God-wasn’t jaundiced, which Michael had told her was often a sign that the sickness was progressing to its fatal stage, but he still had that awful sickly air to him, and Francesca knew that if her mother caught one glimpse of him she would be horrified. And furious.Violet Bridgerton did not like to be kept in the dark. Especially when it pertained to a matter about which one could use the term life and death without being accused of hyperbole.
If he’s not available I will simply turn around and go home, Violet said. Jam please, Hyacinth.I’ll come, too, Hyacinth said.Oh, God. Francesca’s knife skittered right across her muffin. She was going to have to drag her sister. It was the only solution.
You don’t mind if I come along, too, do you? Hyacinth asked Violet.Didn’t you have plans with Eloise? Francesca said quickly.
Hyacinth stopped, thought, blinked a few times. I don’t think so.
Shopping? At the milliner?He looked across the table at the woman who had so unexpectedly fallen into his life. Her hair glowed almost red in the flickering candlelight, and her eyes, when she caught him staring at her, sparkled with vitality and just a hint of mischief.
She was, he was coming to realize, exactly what he needed. Smart, opinionated, bossy—they weren’t the sort of things men usually looked for in a wife, but Phillip so desperately needed someone to come to Romney Hall and fix things. Nothing was quite right, from the house to his children to the slightly hushed pall that had hung over the place when Marina had been alive, and sadly had not lifted even after her death.Phillip would gladly cede some of his husbandly power to a wife if she would only make everything right again. He’d be more than happy to disappear into his greenhouse and let her be in charge of everything else.
Would Eloise Bridgerton be willing to take on such a role?Dear God, he hoped so.