Why, do you ask? (and if you do not ask, why not?)
let me show you...
and your seven—oops, shh eight—sentences.
“Why me, Ria?” he asked lazily as he let his body roll in time to their uneven journey over the cobbles. “Why not any other number of my peers?”
Jamie inspected his semi prone form critically‑—as best he could within the confines of the carriage. His hessians shone brightly, his pantaloons fitted perfectly—as ever, he’d be looking for another tailor if they didn’t—and his cravat gleamed pale and ghostly in the late evening moonlight that showed though the side windows—the perfect aristocrat.
At least, he decided, he was well turned out, even if it was for a hum. “It all seems a bit far-fetched to me, there are many with a better physique and both smarter and richer than I.”
The Earl and the Courtesan,
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