“Whatever her purposes, I won’t have my grandsons raised by an invertebrate.” “Sebastian,” she chided softly, although her lips quivered with amusement. “I mean for her to partner with Weston Ravenel. A healthy young buck with sharp wits and a full supply of manly vigor. He’ll do her much good.” “Let’s allow Phoebe to decide if she wants him,” Evie suggested. “She had better decide soon, or Westcliff will snap him up for one of his daughters.”
