“Even the young lady?” I asked.
He hunched a shoulder. “I hardly think that matters.”
Didn’t he? He had to have some inkling what a loveless marriage entailed, considering the example Uncle Eustace and Aunt Cecily provided us.
I sent a glance toward John, who was listening politely to his brother and trying not to look as if he’d lost his last hope of heaven. I knew how he felt, and I wished—if onlyonce—he would look at me that way.
“We appear to be finished with dinner, so Arabella and I will leave you to your Port.” Aunt Cecily rose. “Arabella?”
“Yes, Aunt Cecy.” She flirted her lashes at Arthur, and he bounded around to pull out her seat, while William assisted Aunt Cecily.