Page 106 of Love ad Lib
Henry grinned. ‘I like the effort you’ve put into your costume.’
Connor was dressed in his nurse’s uniform. ‘Hey, I came straight from work. And anyway, this is the first time you haven’t come as a City boy.’
‘That’s true.’
‘I’m really happy for you, Henry. Libby is lovely. You’re a very lucky man.’
Henry’s smile stuck halfway. He would have been the luckiest man in the world if any of this were true.
The door opened and his throat tightened. Libby was breathtaking. Her eyes sought out his, her expression nervous as if wanting his approval.
‘Well, well, well, and what fine lady do we have here?’ Julian advanced like a toad overdosed on erectile dysfunction medication.
Henry and his brother moved as one, Connor steering Julian away, and Henry coming to Libby’s side. He wanted to take her hand, but instead gave her a short bow. ‘You are utterly beautiful, Libby. In every way.’
Her breath quickened, the low bodice of her yellow Regency dress pushing her breasts up high. For a supposedly conservative dress, it was utterly indecent, and each time she inhaled and her breasts rose, so did his dick. He placed his hands in front to hide the bulge.
‘Shall we go into the dining room?’ he asked.
She nodded, seeming at a loss for words.
Henry inclined his head for Libby to go first, then followed her, imagining Cousin Rupert, Julian and James Hunter-Savage naked and mud wrestling each other in an attempt to get his body back in line.
The waitingstaff cleared Henry’s plate for the seventh course. How were his parents funding such extravagance? In addition to all the other events and the remodelling of his bedroom and former playroom, the weekend must have cost a fortune. Had his mom’s work footed the bill?
Henry had promised himself he wouldn’t get involved and, so far, he’d avoided conversations about the estate. But asking any questions would send him down the slippery slope that always ended in unpleasantness when he reiterated his intention to keep his life in London. As long as Libby remained next to him, he hoped the subject could wait until the last day of their stay.
And he wanted her close. He wanted to talk more, but the questions he really wished to ask were about the real her—not the fictitious Libby Bennet. So, he kept quiet and listened instead.
Estelle had ensured they were again seated at the opposite end of the table from Aunt Charlotte’s socially dissonant family, so everyone seemed more relaxed.
After dinner they moved to the largest drawing room where a string quartet was playing. Libby stood to one side, swaying gently to the music as she chatted to Eveline.
‘Ask her to dance, you twat,’ Estelle hissed in his ear.
Henry sighed and gazed at his sister. She may have been dressed as Lara Croft, but in true Estelle style, she was more tooled up than Rambo.
‘These guns are loaded,’ she said. ‘I was waiting for an excuse to use them on Jupert, but you’re now pushing to the top of the queue.’
‘Jupert?’
‘Come on, brain of Britain, I thought you graduated with a double first? Jupert sounded better than Rulian.’
‘Rupertulian?’
‘Yeah, that works, but I’m not wasting extra syllables on those morons.’ She slapped his shoulder. ‘Don’t distract me. You need to ask Libby to dance.’
‘Why? No-one else is dancing.’
His sister growled and pinched his arm.
He yanked it away. ‘Fuck’s sake!’
‘Because it’s one of her fantasies! And it would make her happy. Fuck my life, you are inept sometimes.’
Libby turned around to look at them, raising her eyebrows in question.
‘Go on, boyfriend of the year,’ Estelle whispered out of the corner of her mouth.
