Charles stared at his outfit in the mirror of his bedchamber, his nerves running rampant. He'd woken early, far too early, and had lain in bed for hours planning in detail how he wanted to spend the day with Lily. He'd accounted for Emily's usual games. No doubt the woman would try to play matchmaker and have her own agenda, but Charles was determined to see things through his own way.

He looked over his bottle-green waistcoat embroidered with gold stags, his buff breeches and ...