Last Man 2 - What a Lady Wants by Victoria Alexander

Author:Victoria Alexander
Language: ron
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

“Excellent idea.” Sinclair grinned, then sobered. “Pity about his father.”

“Unfortunately, death eventually claims each of us.” Oliver blew a long breath. “As apparently does marriage.” He rose to his feet. “Come on then, there’s no getting around it.”

Sinclair stood. “Around what?”

“What is fast becoming a tradition for us, Sinclair, far too quickly, I might add. Let us now toast the happy couples.” Oliver raised his glass. “First, to Lord and Lady Warton. May their journeys be filled with adventure and discovery.”

“And to Lord and Lady Cavendish.” Sinclair paused, then grinned. “May their aim never be better than it is right now.”

“Hear, hear.” Oliver clinked his glass with Sinclair’s and both men took a sip.

“And so,” Sinclair said with a wry smile and a lift of his glass, “it comes down to you and me.”

“To you and me then. The last men standing.” Oliver raised his glass. “God help us both.”

In the following pages

you are cordially invited to a tea party

in which the author has invited

some of her favorite characters

to talk about all sort of things.

Join the discussion already in progress…

Continued from A Little Bit Wicked…

“O kay then. The topic of discussion,” I braced myself, “is men.”

This was not my idea, I can’t say that often enough. But the small group of heroines I had gathered in my living room: Pandora Effington Wells (Countess of Trent), Gillian Effington Marley Shelton (Countess of Shelbrooke), Marianne Shelton Effington (Marchioness of Helmsley), Jocelyn Shelton Beaumont (Viscountess Beaumont), and Marianne’s daughter, Elizabeth Effington Langley (Lady Collingsworth) had minds of their own. Admittedly, that was my fault. I had written them that way.

“Who wants to start,” I said brightly, and looked directly at Marianne, who had already appeared to be more or less the leader of the group.

That came as something of a surprise—I thought I’d be in charge—although it probably shouldn’t have.

After all, Marianne was destined to eventually become a duchess, even if at this particular moment she was not. I had invited these characters to tea at the point in their lives that I had known them best—the end of their own stories. Which was a tiny bit awkward for Elizabeth, because at this gathering she was twenty-nine, whereas most of her aunts were younger and her mother, Marianne, was only twenty-one.

Still, Elizabeth was a confident, intelligent woman and shouldn’t have a problem with something as insignificant as being older than her own mother. Even so, there was a slight look of unease in her eyes.

“Where to start?” Marianne drew her brows together and thought for a moment. “I suppose we could begin with what we like best in a man.”

“A good sense of humor,” Pandora said firmly. “I like a man who isn’t afraid to laugh at the absurdities of life or at himself. A man who makes me laugh with him.”

“I like a man who treats me as if I were the very best thing to ever happen to him. Which of course”—

Gillian grinned—“I am.”

We all laughed at that. At the smugness of it as well as the truth.

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