Any more generosity and she would choke on it. Lowering her lashes, Mary took refuge in modestly murmuring, "You are too good." That much, at least, was true. He and Letty deserved each other; they were both sickeningly virtuous. Their children would probably be born with halos already attached. "If you would excuse me? I promised Mama I would roust Papa out of the library before the supper tray is brought in."

As always, he believed every word. Geoffrey had always believed her, no matter what flummery she spouted. It had been one of his greatest assets as a suitor.

"Certainly. Do you know your way? Sibley Court can be a bit confusing on a first visit." There was no mistaking his pride in the drafty old pile.

"If I get lost," replied Mary lightly, "I'll simply call on one of the family ghosts to show me the way."

"Make sure you find your way back, or Letty will worry."

"Letty always worries."

"I know." Geoffrey smiled a private smile that made Mary feel as hollow as the elderly paneling that lined the walls. "She told me to make sure you get enough supper."

His eyes slid over her shoulder to where Letty was bustling from group to group, making sure everyone had a good time whether they wanted to or not. Letty might be a viscountess now, but she looked like a prosperous squire's wife, with her gingery hair frizzing out of its haphazard arrangement of curls and her fichu askew across her ample bosom. As she moved, the candlelight threw her shadow in grotesque parody against the wall, adding chins and lengthening her nose.

It didn't seem to matter to Geoffrey. His eyes followed his wife as she made her way across the room, his lips tilted up on one side in a smile so intimate that it hurt to observe it. There wasn't anything lustful about his gaze. Mary had seen enough lust in her time to become inured to its expression. It was something much more personal, that spoke of genuine fondness.