“You must be the famous Robbie.” Robbie looked terribly confused. “I am.” King grinned. “Eversley. Marquess of.” Robbie’s eyes were round as plates. “Marquess!” He looked to Sophie. “Are you—” “Not yet,” King laughed, answering the question before it was finished. “Sadly, she wanted to return to Cumbria before she married me. But she swears it will be done just as soon as we’ve seen my father, the Duke of Lyne.” He lifted her hand to his lips, staring deeply into her eyes as he kissed her knuckles. “I didn’t need her to stand on such ceremony, frankly. I’d have married her in a hedge on the
...more
