““What are you talking about?” Torie asked as she stood before the mirror, waiting patiently while her maid buttoned the last of the buttons on her traveling suit. “Your duke. The way that he stares. I’d never noticed before. But he begins to get this look on his face as though he’s popped over to France or somewhere equally boring.” “I thought you liked France.” “I like the way Frenchmen kiss.” “When did you ever kiss a Frenchman?” “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Torie captured her sister’s challe...nging gaze reflected in the mirror. “If you’ve kissed a Frenchman then I’m not a virgin.” “Won’t your husband be surprised when he discovers that?” Her maid, Charity, cleared her throat. “You’re teasing me,” Torie stated. “Am I?” “If you’ve truly kissed a Frenchman then tell me what I don’t know about kisses.” “Why must you always call my bluff?” “Because you always bluff,” Torie said, again looking in the mirror, watching as Charity worked to arrange her hair so her hat would sit perfectly at an angle.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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