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Anthony? she whispered. Anthony?

Agreed, she said quickly.Anthony looked pointedly at Simon.

Of course, he replied.Mother would be devastated if she learned the truth.Actually, Simon murmured, I rather think your mother would applaud our ingenuity, but since you have quite obviously known her longer, I bow to your discretion.

Anthony shot him a frosty look. Second, under no circumstances are the two of you to be alone together. Ever.Well, that should be easy, Daphne said, as we wouldn't be allowed to be alone if we were courting in truth, anyway.

Simon recalled their brief interlude in the hall at Lady Danbury's house, and found it a pity that he wasn't to be allowed any more private time with Daphne, but he recognized a brick wall when he saw one, especially when said wall happened to be named Anthony Bridgerton. So he just nodded and murmured his assent.

There is a third? Daphne asked.Mary shook her head. It makes all the difference, sweet one. That, and a husband’s regard for his wife. But I have seen the viscount in your company. I realize that your match was sudden and unexpected, but he treats you with care and respect. You will have nothing to fear, I’m sure of it. The viscount will treat you well.

And with that, Mary kissed Kate upon the forehead and bade her good night, picking up both empty milk mugs as she left the room. Kate sat on her bed, staring sightlessly at the wall for several minutes.Mary was wrong. Kate was sure of it. She had much to fear.

She hated that she was not Anthony’s first choice for a wife, but she was practical, and she was pragmatic, and she knew that certain things in life simply had to be accepted as fact. But she’d been consoling herself with the memory of the desire she had felt—and she thought Anthony had felt—when she was in his arms.Now it seemed that this desire wasn’t even necessarily for her, but rather some primitive urge that every man felt for every woman.