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    The Kiss Of A Rogue: Tales From Seldon Park, #8
    The Kiss Of A Rogue: Tales From Seldon Park, #8
    The Kiss Of A Rogue: Tales From Seldon Park, #8
    Ebook365 pages6 hours

    The Kiss Of A Rogue: Tales From Seldon Park, #8

    By Bethany M. Sefchick

    4.5/5

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    About this ebook

    There was a time when the Duke of Hathaway was a title to be respected.  However that was before current duke, Lord Adam Reynolds, made an utter mess of his life by throwing over his betrothed, dallying with unsuitable women, and generally behaving like the rogue he now believes himself to be.  Given the cut direct by most of proper Society, Adam has one final chance to redeem his reputation by attending the Devil Duke of Enwright's annual summer house party.  Provided, of course, that he doesn't muck up this opportunity as well.

    Miss Abigail Northrup is the daughter of a wealthy merchant who is tired of being pursued for nothing more than her dowry and fortune.  Her final social event will be her friend's grand house party before she officially declares herself a spinster.  However when she encounters Lord Hathaway - in a rather questionable state of undress, no less - the morning after her arrival, she quickly discovers that he is far from a disreputable rogue.  Is there more to this "Dastardly Duke" than Society sees?  Or is Abigail risking everything, including her heart, for a man who is not quite as he appears?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBethany M. Sefchick
    Release dateMay 28, 2016
    ISBN9781386301097
    The Kiss Of A Rogue: Tales From Seldon Park, #8
    Author

    Bethany M. Sefchick

    Making her home in the mountains of central Pennsylvania, Bethany Sefchick lives with her husband, Ed, and a plethora of Betta fish that she’s constantly finding new ways to entertain. In addition to writing, Bethany owns a jewelry company, Easily Distracted Designs. It should be noted that the owner of the titular Selon Park - one Lord Nicholas Rosemont, the Duke of Candlewood, a.k.a. "The Bloody Duke" - first appeared in her mind when she was eighteen years old and had no idea what to make of him, or of his slightly snarky smile.  She has been attempting to dislodge him ever since - with absolutely no success. When not penning romance novels or creating sparkly treasures, she enjoys cooking, scrapbooking, and lavishing attention on any stray cats who happen to be hanging around. She always enjoys hearing from her fans at: bsefchickauthor@gmail.com

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    • 5/5
      This is my comfort read. Ive read it atleast 4 times and everytime its just as wonderful. Adam and Abby what a lovely couple

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    Book preview

    The Kiss Of A Rogue - Bethany M. Sefchick

    Prologue

    Late April 1820

    From the far side of the ballroom, Adam watched Diana positively glow from within the circle of Lachlan's arms.  She seemed happy, almost deliriously so.  Perhaps he had done the correct thing by letting her go, even if the process had been a bit...messy.  Then again, his sister Sophia also looked utterly blissful as she danced with Lord Selby and Adam knew for certain that he had not done the correct thing where his sister was concerned.

    Adam had given in to Sophia's almost relentless badgering solely to appease her, even though he had known in his heart that it was the wrong thing to do for so very many reasons.  Sophia and Selby might be truly in love - though Adam had his doubts on that count as well - but that did not mean it was suitable for his sister and the scoundrel to wed.  Adam had attempted to explain that repeatedly to both Mama and Sophia over the last few days without revealing the true reasons why he had forbidden the union.  For to reveal what he knew - or at least what he suspected - might well turn his sister against him forever, and that was something he could not bear.

    His attempts at reasoning and rational conversation had done no good.  As always, Sophia wanted what she wanted and the more Adam refused her, the more she took to her room weeping and generally behaving like a silly, willful girl of eight years of age rather than the respectable Society lady of five and twenty that she was.  At least that was how Adam saw things.  He was fairly certain most other men would have agreed with his position.

    However when Sophia had stopped eating, refusing even the decadent trays that were sent to her room at each meal, he had become alarmed and had known that something needed to be done.  Except that he had no idea what to do because by that point, almost all of London thought him a terrible brute and the worst sort of cad imaginable.  It was unlikely that anyone would agree with him that Sophia was making a terrible mistake.  So Adam had granted his permission for the betrothal that very morning, and prayed that eventually the answer about how to set everything to rights would come to him.  Thus far, it had not, much to his chagrin.

    Still, if Sophia had been his only troublesome female, he might have been able to handle the situation.  But she was not.  And the rest of the mess was all of his own doing.  Unfortunately.  Cork-brained idiot that he was.  Which was among other choice names that he had been called over the course of the last few days.

    Across the room, Adam watched Miss Phoebe Banbrook glare daggers at him from behind her fan.  Though he had never actually witnessed her crying, he could tell by the redness in her eyes that she had shed tears rather recently - most certainly over him.  He hadn't wanted that to happen either.  He had never wanted to hurt her.  He merely wanted to enjoy himself for the briefest of moments before the parson's noose slipped around his neck.

    Why?  Why had he acted out the way he had?  Even now he could not say.  He wanted to simply believe that it was because he was a duke and that he could do as he pleased, but that was far from the truth.  Perhaps it was more accurate to say that with Miss Banbrook, unlike with Lady Diana, he did not feel trapped and pressured to live up to a promise regarding his future that he hadn't even been alive to make.  With her, there was no pressure and no commitment.  He could simply be Adam and not a rich and powerful duke who was of little value to anyone beyond his account ledgers.

    At least, it had been that way at first.  But just like every other woman he knew, in time, Phoebe began to stop seeing the man and instead saw only the title.

    Adam liked Phoebe, certainly.  He enjoyed kissing her and she was fun to be around, if not much of a conversationalist.  He enjoyed courting scandal with her because it was such a novel thing to do.  After all, such actions were daring and skirted just close enough to the edge of ruin to be interesting without ever crossing a line he had never even so much as glimpsed before.  He had never planned to cross that line and plunge them both into scandal.  He believed she had felt the same.  Apparently, she did not.  Instead, she had designs upon his person and an enormous desire to become the next Duchess of Hathaway.  He hadn't known that.  Or perhaps he had, and he simply hadn't cared enough about her to pay attention.  More fool him, then.

    When he had informed Miss Banbrook that no, he had no intention of marrying her, she had thrown a fit - much to his surprise really, for he thought she was a far more level-headed sort of chit - and declared him the worst sort of rogue imaginable.  One who liked nothing more than to toy with a young lady's delicate heart.

    Then she had all but called him out in the middle of this infernal ball, hurtling insult after insult in his direction until Lord Hunt and Lord Blackmore had attempted - rather unsuccessfully, it should be noted - to remove her from the ballroom.  Had Miss Banbrook been a man, Adam had no doubt that there would have been pistols at dawn.  When he had suggested that she was simply overwrought, she had hit him with her reticule and fled the room, making an even bigger spectacle than he had anticipated she would.

    To Adam's mind, the entire scene had been a bit harsh.  He had made no pretense with Miss Banbrook.  Or had he?  Adam rubbed at his temples, which were throbbing wickedly.  He really didn't know any longer.  In the beginning, Miss Banbrook had been a welcome distraction from the mess with both Sophia and Lady Diana.  So welcome that perhaps - just perhaps, mind you - he hadn't paid as much attention to her true motivation for seeking him out as he ought to have done.

    Now, his reputation was in tatters and while he could likely recover, for he was a wealthy duke after all, he knew it would not be easy.  Diana was beloved by just about all of Society.  As for himself?  Well, Adam knew very well that he had been referred to as The Dastardly Duke quite often over the years, though in his opinion undeservedly so.

    He wasn't a bad man or an evil one.  At least not in his own estimation.  Yet he was well aware that he had his flaws, women - and how he dealt with them - chief among them.

    How had his life come to this?  He honestly had no idea.  Though really, he supposed, it had all started with Lady Diana and his refusal to wed her in what all of Society seemed to believe was a timely manner.

    Adam hadn't wanted to be wed just then, so he had resisted.  And he had made it plain to all and sundry that he had no intention of becoming so at any point in the near future.

    He had thought he was behaving no worse than most of his friends and better than many.  True, he had no real desire to take a bride ever, which was why he had put off the parson's mousetrap with Diana for so long, but he had expected that in time, he would do just that.  But not now.  He had assumed that Diana would wait for him.  After all, their pairing had been arranged practically since the cradle by their mothers.  He had always assumed that would never change.  It had never occurred to Adam that Diana might feel otherwise on the subject.  The truth was, he didn't give Diana or her feelings much thought.  She was simply there and he assumed she always would be.

    It was...difficult...in some ways to realize that was not the case.

    Then again, as he had just admitted to himself, Adam had never been particularly skilled with women.  He'd never had to be.  He was fated to marry Diana...eventually anyway.  Now that she was being swept away by Lord Hallstone, however, Adam was faced with a new predicament.

    He would need - somehow - to figure out how to woo a woman.  And not just any woman, but a woman of Society.  A woman of fine manners and good standing.  The only problem was, he had no idea how to go about such a feat.

    Opera dancers, mistresses, Cyprians, and ballerinas?  Those sorts of women he knew how to approach.  Women like Miss Banbrook?  Well, given what a muddle he'd made of that situation, he clearly hadn't a clue as to what sort of behavior was appropriate with a lady.

    Then again, he was a duke.  Before tonight, he'd never even had to wonder.

    Now, it seemed, he did.  And he also found that he did not care to be put in this position.  He was a duke, damn it!  His actions should not have consequences such as these.  But they did.  And he would have to figure out how to deal with them.

    However that was for another time.  Another evening when he was feeling more like himself, and he hadn't just been humiliated in front of all of Society.  There was time.  After all, he might be the Dastardly Duke, but he was still welcomed in the best of Society homes.  Tomorrow was another day and he could begin his search for a duchess then.  And figure out what to do about Sophia and Selby.  And how to put his life back together.  After all, he was at his lowest point.  The only place to go was up, after all.

    Do you really believe that remaining here is such a good idea?  Hasn't poor Lord Devonmont already suffered enough embarrassment for one evening?

    Adam had not heard Lord Raynecourt approach the dark corner he had been occupying for nearly an hour, doing his best to blend into the rather ornate tapestry of what looked to be some sort of Scottish land battle, complete with castles and moats.  Then again, the duke had been unaware that the earl was even back in Town.  The last Adam had heard, Rayne was still gadding about the Continent studying...well, whatever it was that he studied and making noises that he would take one Miss Marietta Crestwood as his mistress for the remainder of the Season upon his return.

    With a cool eye, Adam turned to the other man.  He might not be feeling particularly superior at the moment, but he would do his best to act it - just as his tutors had taught him when he was but a young boy.  I was unaware that I was no longer welcome here.  Though in truth, he wouldn't be surprised if that was truly the case.  At least for the remainder of the evening.  He had caused a scene after all.

    Rayne shrugged, looking disinterested, though the glint in his eyes said otherwise.  You are a duke.  You are always welcome, as I am certain you well know.

    However...  Because in Adam's experience, there was always a however when someone spoke in such halting tones.

    The earl shrugged again.  However, it might be in your best interests to, shall we say, decline a few invitations in the coming days.  This is no mere wallflower that you have trifled with.  It is Lady Diana, a true paragon of Society and beloved by many.  And who is a friend to The Bloody Duke.  The damage you have wrought tonight will likely have repercussions for a good long time.  If the damage is ever truly undone.

    That gave Adam pause.  On principle, he didn't fear anyone in Society.  Nor did he fear long-term damage to his reputation.  After all, he was a duke.  But he did have a healthy amount of respect and fear for Lord Candlewood.  One did not upset the Bloody Duke and not expect that there would consequences, sometimes lasting ones.  Adam had been unaware that the man knew Lady Diana or that he knew her well enough to consider her a friend.  It was yet one more thing he had been in the dark about, it seemed.

    I see.  That was as much as Adam would admit to, for surely it could not be as bad as all that.  He suspected the earl was merely trying to scare him.  Well, objective accomplished.  Adam would never be so foolish or step this far out of line again.  There was too much to risk, even for a duke.

    No, I do not think you do.  Rayne shook his head.  But that is not for me to discuss further.

    So I am to be banished?  Is that it?  Adam was incredulous now, fear slowly sinking into the depths of his soul.  He was the Duke of Hathaway.  No one treated him this way.  Except that he was afraid that Society was about to - for reasons he did not fully understand.  And that there would be no easy recovery.

    Adam had acted out just once in his entire life and now he was facing serious consequences because of it.  It was not right.  But he had the impression that was the way it was to be.  And that he did not have a say in the matter.

    With another shake of his head, Rayne rubbed the bridge of his nose.  I will only say that you had best hope that Lady Diana and Lord Hallstone make the expected love match.  I do not think you wish to discover what happens if it is otherwise.  A duke you might be, but when Lord Candlewood is angered...  He did not bother to finish that thought.

    Then the earl was gone, disappearing back into the crowd and leaving Adam rather shaken.  But the fear quickly gave way to anger as he attempted to soothe his own conscience.  Just who did that impudent earl think that he was?  He might be wealthier than Adam, but that was all.  And simply because the man was friends with The Bloody Duke did not hold any meaning with him either.

    Or at least it should not.  Then again, Adam knew very well that he was treading a dangerous path as it was.  His behavior as of late had been questionable.  Even he was not so foolish as to think otherwise.  However he was far from being the sort of reprobate that Rayne implied he was becoming.  There were other men with far worse reputations than Adam's, after all.

    With a huff of indignation, Adam stalked to the far corner of the ballroom where the refreshment table was set up.  He did not need this additional aggravation.  It had been a trying enough night as it was.  Perhaps a cool glass of punch would calm his nerves.  Yes, that was just the thing!

    As he made his way through the crowd, he did his best to ignore the stares and whispered that followed him.  Because in truth, if they were less than welcoming, he did not wish to see them anyway. 

    Chapter One

    Late June 1820

    Fairhaven

    Hampshire

    Why were there twittering birds in his bedchamber?  And better yet, when had his nice, soft bed been exchanged for one that was so bloody hard and felt more than a little damp?  And who in the bloody blazes had left the curtains open?

    Moreover, why was he still wearing his breeches and Hessians?  His topcoat, waistcoat, cravat and evening shirt were long gone.  His gloves, if he'd had them, were gone as well.  Did his valet only half undress him and then leave him to fend for himself? Was even his own staff now turning against him?  And where in the hell were those bloody birds?

    Opening one eye, Lord Adam Reynolds, the Duke of Hathaway, was a little shocked to see green blades of grass within his line of vision rather than his own bed linens.  Or the walls of his bedchamber for that matter.

    When Adam opened his other eye, he could see a piece of fine Italian statuary in the distance, a gurgling fountain, the gentle curve of a tree trunk - likely where those infernal birds were still twittering - and the first rosy fingers of dawn beginning to streak delicately over the horizon.

    Where was he?  He was in London.  Wasn't he?  Or...not.  Oh.  Wait.  That was right.  He was at Fairhaven, the Duke of Enwright's country estate outside of London and home to the official yet unofficial end-of-the-Season house party and masquerade ball.  By why was he outside?  He had been assigned a bedchamber.  Hadn't he?  Or...not.  He wasn't quite certain.  Actually, other than his name and where he assumed that he was, he wasn't really certain of anything.

    Other than that his reputation was in shreds, nobody liked him very much any longer, his sister Sophia would also likely never speak to him again, and no reputable lady of good breeding would come within a ballroom's distance of him.  And he was only at this house party by the grace of the one man who had once possessed a reputation worse than Adam's own at present.

    He also remembered, albeit a bit hazily, his final night in London when he had been all but physically removed from Lady Carlisle's Grand Finale Ball for showing up with an opera dancer as his escort for the evening.  One who had been dressed in little more than feathers and a few strategically placed bits of silk.  After all, if he was going to be branded the Dastardly Duke and viewed as little more than a reprobate, then why not truly embrace the part?  If Society could erase one and thirty years of excellent behavior and become fixated upon less than a month of slightly questionable decisions, then why not be the utterly despicable lout he was now rumored to be.

    It had seemed like the perfect plan.  Until...it wasn't.

    And it had occurred to him that if he kept up his current behaviors, it would be too late to salvage what was left of his reputation - dukedom or no dukedom.  If it wasn't too late already, that was.

    In a wash of shame, Adam also remembered all too well the humiliation his mother and sister had suffered that same night when he had been dumped on the front doorstep of their London townhome by a bunch of ruffians who had found him in the gutters of Covent Garden.  Not to mention the stunning lack of invitations for the entire Reynolds family the following day, though he had managed to correct that quickly enough.  At least where his mother and sister were concerned.  However there was also the little matter of the invitations already issued to him that had suddenly been revoked.

    All but one - to the Duke of Enwright's end-of-season house party and masquerade.  That one had not been, and Adam knew it was the last chance he would have to redeem himself and his reputation before he was tossed from Society for a good long while.  No matter that he was a duke.

    Because in the last several weeks, he had become the rogue so many had believed him to be after that night when he had ended things with Diana.  And his reputation had suffered accordingly, until now, it was just about too late.

    Oh, yes.  Adam did remember all of that rather clearly.  That still did not answer the question as to why he was lying in Enwright's garden, half naked and flat on his back with no memory of how he had come to be there.  Or how much additional damage this little escapade would inflict upon his reputation.

    You are awake.  That is good.  I shan't have to fetch the physician after all.

    With a start, Adam propelled himself into a sitting position and looked around for the source of the sweetly feminine voice that had all but shocked him senseless.  Within a moment, he found her.  And he had to wonder if he had not suffered a blow to the head of some sort.

    The woman was, in a word, stunning.  A goddess, really.  Seated on a nearby marble bench, she looked the very picture of English femininity with gorgeous brunette hair and creamy skin.  He wasn't certain what color her eyes were, for she was rather far away and the sun rising behind her obscured all but her most basic of features.

    Still, she was perfection incarnate, everything that he had thought he might never be able to find in a woman again.  His pulse raced every time he looked at her and he could imagine nothing more pleasant than kissing her senseless before giving her a good tumble.  And she, a proper and perfect lady, was here with him in Enwright's garden, offering to fetch a physician.  How blessedly lucky could one man such as him possibly be?

    Wait.  What?  A woman like that with him in the garden?  Alone?  Oh, God.  What had he done this time?  How badly had he screwed up yet again?  He was fairly certain that he did not want to know.

    And why did he need a physician?  Was he hurt?  Had he hurt someone else?  Oh, God, what would he do if he had?  And why couldn't he remember?  Did he even want to remember?  Once more, he decided that perhaps ignorance was indeed bliss.

    I am sorry, Adam finally managed, his voice thick and halting as he managed to slow both his brain and his body's reaction to her.  You have me at somewhat of a disadvantage, Lady...?  He allowed the question to hang between them, his head still muzzy and his memories slipping through his fingers like water.

    His garden goddess rose and moved towards him slowly, though given that he was still on the ground and he wasn't altogether certain that he could walk, he doubted that he was much of a threat to her at the moment.  He also could not help but note that her gaze skimmed his naked chest with some decided interest.  He should feel at least a bit embarrassed, for this woman was clearly a lady, but he could not quite summon the moral rectitude to do so.  Likely she did not know who he was.  Once she did, she would turn away in disgust, so it was best, he decided, to enjoy her admiration for as long as it lasted.

    He would take his small victories where he could get them these days.

    I am Miss Abigail Northrup, she said in a voice that would put the songbirds - the same ones still busy twittering away in the trees - to shame.  Once more, Adam wondered how hard he had hit his head, for his entire skull was beginning to ache a bit.  Not to mention that thoughts such as these were not like him at all.  He wasn't the poetic sort.

    She stopped a few paces away from him and eyed him a bit critically.  You, of course, are the Duke of Hathaway.  She did not seem overly impressed as she said this and his heart fell just a bit.  Apparently she did know who he was after all.  And you also cannot hold your spirits, it seems.

    She had him there, for that was true.  He couldn't.  He had never been able to, even when he was younger.  Now, as a general rule, Adam did not imbibe in more than a glass or two of wine at dinner.  He never, ever touched the harder liquors like scotch or the whiskey, imported from America, that was becoming all the rage.  I do not imbibe, no, he managed with as much dignity as he could muster, which was not nearly as much as he would have liked.  Then he remembered his state of undress.  Drinking would explain rather a lot.  I take it that I did imbibe last evening, however?  He prayed she would give him an honest answer.

    To his relief, she did.  Only because of a silly and stupid dare.  She quirked an eyebrow at him, something he could see far more clearly now that she had moved out of the direct line of the rising sun.  You were something of the life of the party last evening.  She twitched her lips, obviously trying to suppress the urge to laugh.  That was not good.  Adam did not want this goddess laughing at him.  Then again, when one is regarded as a universal arse for forcing one's sister to cancel her nuptials and break her engagement, one will likely try very hard to make people forget that he is disliked by just about everyone at the moment.  Including his own family.

    Adam winced.  Sophia and Selby.  How could he have forgotten?  The row with his sister had been nothing short of absolutely horrid.  And extremely public.  But it had been necessary.  Even if Sophia did not wish to hear his reasoning.  He was only trying to protect her.  He loved her and he would do anything to ensure that she was not ruined - or worse, miserable.  After all, he could buy her a husband if necessary, but it was far more difficult to free her from a man who used and abused her.

    What did I do? he asked, slowly rising to his feet and looking around for his missing clothing.  He doubted that anyone had helped him remove it, and this woman's unabashed gaze on his bare chest was making him uncomfortable.  Or more uncomfortable than he had been in recent memory - which, to be fair, took a great deal of doing on her part.

    It is more what you didn't do, your grace, Miss Northrup replied as she took a few steps towards a nearby rosebush and plucked his evening shirt from its thorny branches.  You were already here when Lord Selby arrived last night and he all but challenged you to a duel over Lady Sophia.

    Adam's hands froze.  I did not...do such a thing.  Did I?  He thought not, especially since it was dawn and he had awoken lying on the ground alone.  Still, he took a quick look at his person just to be certain there was no blood.  He considered it a minor miracle that there was none.

    Miss Northrup shook her head.  No, thank all that is good.  Lord Enwright and his lovely wife intervened before the situation could progress much further.  She pursed her lips.  Though you should know that the new Lord Berkshire was willing to be your second, had it become necessary.

    Adam took his shirt from her hands and shrugged into it, though he didn't bother to button it, as he could not seem to make his fingers work properly.  Dash it all, anyway.  Good to know.  I think.  He paused and looked at the goddess again.  Even though she had a name, he could not stop thinking of her as his garden goddess.  Do I even know Berkshire?  I suppose I must if he offered to second me, though I cannot for the life of me place the chap.  He sighed and rubbed at his temple where he did feel a sizable lump.  That explained the confusion.  And afterwards?  For I am certain the man was not about to let the matter drop.

    His goddess shrugged.  You challenged Lord Selby to a game of billiards.  That was, of course, after a round of fencing was soundly voted down by Lady Enwright.  It seems she did not wish for there to be blood on her new Aubusson carpets.  I cannot say I blame her, for they are quite lovely.

    To his shame, Adam did not remember a moment of the described incident.  He prayed that no one else did either, but he thought that might be a futile hope indeed.  And then?

    Miss Northrup - for he really did need to begin thinking of her properly - handed him his topcoat, his waistcoat still nowhere to be seen.  Then he challenged you to drink with him.  Scotch.  The finest the Highlands has to offer.  He had three bottles already with him for some reason.

    And I did.  Adam knew that he wasn't likely to have been able to resist the challenge, no matter how foolish and stupid it might be.  Drink that is.  Hell and blazes.  Then he looked up sheepishly.  My apologies, my lady.  I should not speak so in front of you.  Yet another offense his mother would likely kill him for if she knew of it.

    This time, Miss Northrup truly did smile and she instantly went from being merely beautiful to breathtakingly gorgeous in a mere moment.  And Adam's heart sank into his boots - which, thankfully, he was still wearing.  Fear not, your grace.  For I am not a lady.  As I have said, I am a mere miss, the daughter of a wealthy merchant who has a dowry large enough to tempt the fortune hunters of England into courting a woman of low birth.  Even some of the peerage has stooped so low.  It is why I am here, after all.  She cleared her throat.  Anyway, enough about me.  As I was saying about you...

    For a moment, Adam simply wanted to shut his eyes and go back to sleep on the lawn, heedless of who might find him.  Instead, he gathered his wits and offered Miss Northrup his arm as any proper gentleman should.  Please continue, Miss Northrup.  I would like to know how thoroughly I have blundered yet again.  That seemed to be all too common with him these days.

    Well, she hesitated, biting her lip and he noticed how plump it looked in that particular moment, you drank quite a bit.  And then you won the game.

    I won?  Adam was shocked.  He was an excellent billiards player, but he had never beaten Lord Selby.  Pity that the first time he did so, he was too foxed to remember the occasion.

    She smiled and guided him to a bench hidden behind some trees where they would not be in view of anyone who might venture out of the house.  You did.  It was, I am told, a magnificent shot that stole the victory for you.  Right out from under Lord Selby's nose.

    And then?  For Adam feared that he would not like this part very much.

    "And

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