Crimson rushed into Miss Chilton-Grizedale’s pale, greenish cheeks, and she lifted her chin. “Before you gentlemen say anything else you might regret, or toss about any further accusations or aspersions upon my character, I believe we should hear what Lord Greybourne has to say about the matter.”
Hmmm. Quite the imperious piece, although he couldn’t help but applaud the woman’s level-headed nerve. He’d be hard-pressed to name many men who would show such spirit and common sense in the face of two such angry fathers.
Clearing his throat, then adjusting his spectacles, Philip drew a deep breath in preparation of telling the very undone Lord Hedington and the greenish-skinned Miss Chilton-Grizedale the same story he’d related to his father two days ago upon his return to England.
“Something happened while I was in Egypt, something which prevents me from marrying Lady Sarah. Or anyone else.”
After several seconds of deafening silence, understanding, edged with steel, dawned in Lord Hedington’s eyes. “I see. You fancy yourself in love with some woman you met abroad. That is unfortunate, because your duty demands-”
“This has nothing to do with another woman, your grace. The problem is that I am… cursed.”
No one spoke for several long seconds. Finally Lord Hedington cleared his throat and, after casting a surreptitious glance at Miss Chilton-Grizedale, said in a low voice, “It is, I believe, quite common for men to occasionally suffer from such an… affliction. My daughter’s abundant beauty will surely rekindle your… urges.”