Mr. Pinter!" He turned to find Lady Celia approaching…

““Mr. Pinter!" He turned to find Lady Celia approaching. "Yes, my lady?" To his surprise, she glanced nervously at the open door to the library and lowered her voice. "I must speak to you privately. Do you have a moment?" He ruthlessly suppressed the leap in his pulse. Lady Celia had never asked to talk to him alone. The singularity of that made him nod curtly and gesture to a nearby parlor. She preceded him, then stood looking about her with uncharacteristic anxiousness as he entered and left the door open, wanting no one to accuse him of impropriety. "What is it?" he asked, trying not to sound impatient. Or intrigued. He'd never seen Lady Celia looking unsure of herself. It tugged annoyingly at his sympathies. "I had a dream last night. That is, I'm not sure if it actually was a dream. I mean, of course it was a dream, but..." "What's your point, madam?" Her chin came up, and a familiar martial light entered her gaze. "There's no need to be rude, Mr. Pinter." He couldn't help it; being this close to her was doing uncomfortable things to him. He could smell her perfume, a tempting mix of...whatever flowery things noblewomen wore to enhance their charms. Her charms needed no enhancement.””

— Sabrina Jeffries