The Accidental Duke (The Mad Matchmaking Men of Waterloo Book 1) by Devlin, Barbara (love letters to the dead .TXT) 📕

his thoughts, which she expected he would share, later. “But I don’t understand why some refer to the marriage mart as a game of love, when it is truly war unlike any other, and those who stir the pot should know what they cook, else they might get burned.”

“I agree.” Warrington arched a brow, when Arabella crossed the room and planted herself firmly in Anthony’s lap. “Lord Michael should offer much easier sport, given we have an obliging candidate.”

Anthony wrapped his arm about her waist and anchored her firmly in his grasp. When he pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek, Beaulieu cleared his throat.

“Are we delaying something of importance?” Beaulieu stood and stretched. “If you wish, we can continue strategizing Lord Michael’s courtship and potential targets—er, I meant brides, tomorrow.”

“Actually, I have an urgent engagement with my wife.” When she met Anthony’s gaze, he winked, and she understood too well the so-called engagement he referenced, because he made no secret of his preferred pastime, which involved the inventive exercise of his tongue and her body. “Shall we, my dear?”

“What about our guests?” She peered at her co-conspirators, and they feigned ignorance, because once again they extended their aid in a noble mission. “I would not ignore the Mad Matchmakers, given the aid they offered me, in your absence.”

“Oh, I say, we can manage without you for, what does it take Rockingham, ten or fifteen minutes? Hardly enough time to enjoy a brandy.” Beaulieu snickered, and he ushered the Mad Matchmakers from the study. “Besides, I believe I need to relieve Greyson of more of his inheritance, and we never finished our card game, last night.”

“Very funny,” Greyson replied, from the hall.

“What?” Chuckling, Beaulieu exited the study. “I am nothing if not brutally honest.”

The house quieted, and Arabella prepared to launch her scheme.

“Alone, at last, Lady Rockingham.” As she anticipated, Anthony initiated the prelude of his favored activity, and he trailed his tongue along the curve of her jaw. “Shall we adjourn to our chamber?”

“My lord, that sounds lovely, but I have a surprise for you.” She gasped when he squeezed her bottom, leaving her in no doubt of his intentions. “Perhaps, I might persuade you to accompany me to the courtyard, before we retire for the afternoon, because I have a gift for you?”

“I have a gift for you, too.” He nuzzled her neck, drew her closer, and tempted her with his tender touch. “And it is ready to burst for want of you.”

“Anthony, you are insatiable.” Determined not to encourage him, she brushed aside his hand and eased from his lap. Soon, he would understand. “And I shall be too happy to accommodate you, if you indulge me.”

“Now?” He pouted, and she almost relented. “Can it not wait until I have expressed my appreciation of your most delectable bottom?”

“My lord, you do that every morning and night, such that I am assured of your unwavering dedication to my posterior.” With fists on hips, she inclined her head. “But if it will sway you to do my bidding, I shall permit you free reign of my person, to your heart’s content, for the remainder of the day, if you will accompany me to the courtyard this instant.”

“Without benefit of clothing?” Anthony narrowed his stare, and she giggled at the burn of a blush, as she indicated the affirmative. “Until dinner and, possibly, beyond, because I am quite aroused, in light of your oh so delicious offer.”

“So I gather.” She bit her lip, when he stood and buttoned his coat, to conceal the evidence of his desire.

“All right. I bend to your will, Lady Rockingham, but I warn you I shall exact recompense in equal measure.”

“Is that a promise?” She took his arm in hers. “Because I shall be vexed if you disappoint me.”

“Indeed, my cherished bride.” Together, they strolled into the hall. “What say we have dinner served in our sitting room?”

“But we host the Mad Matchmakers, and it would be the height of rudeness were we to abandon our guests.” All manner of mischief flitted through her brain, and she would never hear the end of it if they did not make an appearance, given the eccentric veterans had become like brothers to her. “And I suspect you enacted that brilliant flanking maneuver between the sheets in the wee hours, for their benefit, because I could not contain my response. I suspect I woke the entire household with my roof-rattling approbation of your ravishment.”

“In truth, I did, and I shall do it again, tonight,” Anthony responded, with a self-satisfied smirk to which she would have taken exception if she did not require his cooperation. “While you are the queen of the house, and no one disputes your reign, it is good to remind my friends that I am the king, and the men can entertain themselves, this evening.”

“Then I shall occupy you, my lord and master.” In the foyer, they turned left, where the butler lingered, and the manservant set wide the double doors. The sun spilled into the entry, and Anthony let go her arm and shielded his eyes.

She clutched his elbow and led him down the stairs, and the gravel crunched beneath his boots, as they crossed the courtyard. A telltale nicker caught his attention, and he came to an abrupt halt, when he spied her present.

That was the moment she had to stand for him, once again.

“No.” Standing ramrod straight, he shook his head. “Arabella, what have you done?”

“I beg you, my lord, do not deny me.” When he tried to pull free, she held fast, because he could not run from his fears. “I selected a white Andalusian, because I would never try to replace Hesperus. This resplendent creature is sweet-tempered and eager to make your acquaintance. Will you not come and meet him? Will you not give him a chance?”

“My angel, I know what you want, but I cannot do this.” When he closed his eyes, she brushed a lock of hair from