There was a little laugh. “Nothing, child. She’s too indolent.”
“Oh, like Sir Anthony Fanshawe — upon occasion.”
“Worse. Beatrice is of too ample a girth to indulge even in surprise. Or so she says. I believe you will like her.”
“I am more concerned, sir, that she may be pleased to like me.”
“She will, don’t fear it. She has a fondness for me.”
“I thank you for the pretty compliment, kind sir. You would say you may order her liking at your will.”
“You’re a rogue. I would say she will be prepared to like you from the outset. Sir Thomas follows her lead in all things. It’s a quaint couple.”
“Ay, and what are we? Egad, I believe I’ve fallen into a romantic venture, and I always thought I was not made for it. I lack the temperament of your true heroine.”
There was a smile hovering about Sir Anthony’s mouth. “Do you?” he said. “Then who, pray tell me, might stand for a true heroine?”
“Oh, Letty Grayson, sir. She has a burning passion for romance and adventure.”