“Julien?” Seaforth’s voice brought him back to the present.
“I beg your pardon. I was wool-gathering.”
“Are you going to join us at Lady Grenville’s salon today?” Penelope asked.
The last thing Julien wanted to do at the moment was sit and discuss the merits of Plato’s teachings, Sappho’s poetry, Cicero’s speeches, or whatever subject had taken Lady Grenville’s fancy this month. “I’m afraid I’ll have to decline, but I would be happy to meet you later to go riding.”
His offer was enough to placate Penelope, as he knew it would be. “That’s an excellent notion. The air would do you a world of good.”
He probably should have expected that, Julien thought, exchanging a wry smile with Seaforth