My gaze flicked again to Mrs. Penrose before returning to my uncle. “Might I ask what it is you wanted to discuss?” Uncle and Mrs. Penrose exchanged a look I could not begin to interpret. He sighed and sat beside me, leaning forward to balance his elbows on his knees. “Yesterday,” he began, “you said something about how I did not know the woman I was marrying.” I stiffened. “Yes.” “Well, I wanted to make it clear that I am not some lovesick fool swayed by the first pretty face to come my way.” He smiled at Mrs. Penrose. “Though it is a pretty face indeed.”
