His Scandalous Kiss: Secrets at Thorncliff Manor: 6 by Sophie Barnes Page A

only understand your situation better than most, but that he might be more accepting.”

Chapter 4
    “You look terribly tired,” Lady Foxworth remarked the following day at breakfast. “Did you not sleep well?”
    “Not particularly,” Mary replied. She’d been too busy thinking about Signor Antonio and about what Amy had said about trying
     to spend more time with him.
    “Well, you did have a very exciting evening, so I do not blame you.” Spooning some sugar into her tea, Lady Foxworth stirred
     the hot beverage before taking a dainty sip. Dipping her head toward Mary, she then lowered her voice to a whisper and said,
     “And in case you failed to notice, you are still the subject of attention.”
    Glancing along the length of the table, Mary caught a couple of gentlemen staring in her general direction with unfeigned
     interest. They nodded politely in response to her awareness, whispered a few words to each other and served her a pair of
     brilliant smiles. Flattered, Mary smiled back at them before turning away. “It makes no sense.”
    “Of course it does, my dear. You are far more beautiful than you give yourself credit for and last night, dressed in that
     gown you were wearing . . . well, you can see the result for yourself, surely.”
    Mary scrunched her nose. “I hope this does not mean that I am going to have to fight off a hoard of annoying suitors.”
    “I certainly hope it does,” Lady Foxworth said, her teacup clattering loudly against its saucer as she set it down a touch
     harder than usual. “And there is no need for you to find them annoying as long as you keep an open mind.”
    To Mary’s way of thinking, any man who would try to convince her to do something that she had no desire to do—like marry,
     in this case—was bound to be annoying. To her chagrin, Rotridge had even managed to make her go boating later, in spite of
     her protests. Signor Antonio would never have tried to force her like that. Her heart trembled a little at the thought of
     him and of what she intended to do.
    “What are your plans for the day?” Mary asked her aunt when they were done with their meal and had exited the dining room.
    “Lady Duncaster tells me that Mr. Thomas Young will be arriving today and she has very kindly offered to introduce me to him.”
    “That will be exciting for you,” Mary said, aware of her aunt’s admiration for the scientist. “I suppose you will be discussing
     his wave theory of light?”
    “Oh yes. That, and his theory on color perception, which I find most fascinating.”
    “I am simply dumbfounded by all the languages he can speak. Ten, is it?”
    Lady Foxworth raised her eyebrows. “Twelve,” she said.
    “That is incredible,” Mary remarked.
    “And useful too, as proven by his successful efforts in translating the demotic text of the Rosetta Stone.”
    “He did that as well?”
    Lady Foxworth nodded. “I believe he is still working on the hieroglyphs, though I have every confidence that he will eventually
     decipher those too. How about you, Mary? What are your plans for the day? I know you have your boat ride with Rotridge later
     this afternoon.”
    “Yes. I received a note from him this morning, suggesting that we head down to the lake together after luncheon, which allows
     me some time right now in which to see to my correspondence.”
    “Then you have a busy day ahead of you as well, it would seem. I shall leave you to it then,” Lady Foxworth said as she started
     to turn away. “Perhaps you can join me for tea on the terrace after your boat ride?”
    “I would love to,” Mary said, happy to have an excuse to extricate herself from Rotridge’s company if it became necessary
     for her to do so.
    Returning upstairs to her bedchamber, Mary seated herself at her escritoire, prepared a piece of foolscap, readied her quill,
     and proceeded to write two letters—one to her brother, Lord Carthright, and the other to her bank, informing them to