“They were furious with him for marrying a woman of color, even though if you didn’t know, it would have been very hard to tell.” He brought the car to a stop at a red light, then turned to look at me. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“How do you feel about marrying a man of mixed race?”
“Your color has nothing to do with how I feel about you.” I studied his honey eyes. “How do you feel about marrying Marcus Llewellyn’s son?”
“I won’t be taking Marcus Llewellyn to my bed.”
“I should hope not.” I couldn’t help smiling. “The light’s changed.”
He eased down on the gas pedal and drove down the street. “What about your name? Is Kipp a nickname? A family name?”
My smile faded. “Sir didn’t tell you?”
“Oddly enough, he spoke very little of you.”
Not oddly, when I was the least loved son.
“My mother wanted me named Kipp. No one knew why.” I changed the subject. “Are you familiar with Martinsburg? Do you need directions to Chantilly Lace?”