“Bosh! I repeat. Bosh!”

“Cecilia, I am also scared.” He leaned in and cupped the side of her breast. “We cannot delay. This isn’t some childish game we play.”

“She is MY sister, and YOUR wife, Harrington.” Her eyes gazed into his. “If we do this, it must be done proper. No one must know! You must promise me, My Love."

“No one in the Ton will know.” Harrington nuzzled the side of her neck.

“Not even my father?” She moaned in pleasure.

“Especially not your father, the Duke.” His lips danced on hers.

“On your honor?” Cecilia’s hand took hold of his cravat and pulled him in.

“On my Honor, my lady.” In a passionate flash, their bodies intertwined and released.

“I must return. I promised Wellington the next dance.” Cecilia pushed back her hair, as Harrington ajusted his cavart. “Wellington is a pushy enough sod to find us out.”

“Do feign surprise when you are told of your sister’s accident on her morning ride.”

“Just as we practiced.” Cecilia curtsied, and then skipped past the daffodils, into the house.