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he rose hastily to his feet and began to pull on his clothes.
    â€œWho, then?” Angelina prompted as she less hurriedly got to her feet.
    He fastened his breeches before answering her. “It would seem that my aunt Elizabeth has indeed returned to town and decided to pay me a visit…!”
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Chapter Seven
    â€œSit up straight and do not fidget, Angelina.” Lady Elizabeth Montague instructed brusquely but not unkindly as the two women sat together in the elegance of her town house drawing room, awaiting the arrival of afternoon visitors.
    Angel instantly stilled in rearranging the folds of her cream gown, still somewhat at a loss to know how it was she came to be in residence at Lady Montague’s home at all.
    The elderly lady had swept into the dining room at St. Claire House the evening before, having been informed by not one acquaintance but several that the Duke of Stourbridge had been seen in his carriage that very morning with a young, unmarried female at his side. An occurrence that she had felt the need to look into personally. “Being seen with a female and having that female stay in his home unaccompanied,” Alexander had been informed disgustedly, “were two completely different things!”
    Having taken in the intimacy of their situation at a glance—how could she not when Alexander had only had time to hastily don his shirt and breeches, and Angelina’s own appearance showed signs of theirlovemaking in the untidiness of her hair and lips swollen from the force of Alexander’s kisses!—she had ordered Angelina to collect her things immediately as she would be returning home with her instantly.
    Such had been the older woman’s force of will that Angelina had felt compelled to comply with the instruction. Quite what had taken place between aunt and nephew in her absence Angelina had no idea, but when she returned down the stairs, her appearance suitably tidied and her belongings duly repacked into her trunk, she had found Alexander to be in complete agreement with his aunt’s arrangements.
    Angelina had personally received no word of rebuke from that lady, either last night or this morning, Lady Montague seeming to attribute any and all blame, for the intimacy of the situation she had so obviously interrupted, to her nephew.
    Something Angelina knew she must now correct. “Lady Montague, I feel I must tell you—”
    â€œI would rather you did not, my dear,” the older woman assured her hastily. “I saw enough yesterday evening to know the way things are between you and Stourbridge,” she added kindly. “The sooner the two of you are married the happier I shall be!”
    Angelina’s eyes widened in alarm. “Oh, but—”
    â€œThe Duke of Stourbridge, my lady,” the butler announced while standing in the doorway, only seconds before Alexander himself strode forcefully into the room.
    Angelina was only vaguely aware of the butlerwithdrawing and closing the door behind him, her attention all on Alexander as he crossed the room to bend and place a kiss upon one of his aunt’s powdered cheeks. He looked every inch the haughty duke this afternoon, his hair tied back meticulously, his dark blue jacket and paler blue waistcoat impeccably tailored above cream silk breeches.
    At last, Alexander turned to look at Angelina, frowning darkly as her lashes instantly fanned down onto the paleness of her cheeks and so hiding her expressive blue eyes from his gaze.
    â€œWhat have you been saying to Angel in order to cause this uncharacteristic demureness, Aunt?” he drawled ruefully, his gaze unrepentant as Angelina’s lashes rose instantly so that she might give him a censorious frown for his levity in the midst of a situation that was obviously causing his aunt some distress.
    â€œI am afraid that your aunt is under the misapprehension that the two of us are to be married, Your Grace,” she informed