As they approached the grand staircase, Patrick's young son, Van, and Charlene's stepdaughter Flor, came whooping down the grand staircase.
Laughing, Dalton caught both of them in his arms before they could tumble into the crowd. "And just what do you two think you're doing?" he growled.
"Fighting a duel." Flor narrowed her green eyes at Donovan. "And I'm winning!"
"No, you're not." Van jutted out his jaw. "You're a girl. You can't win a duel."
Flor placed her hands on her hips. "Ha! That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."
Dalton ruffled Van's red-tinged brown hair and set both the children down on the stairs.
"Up you go," Thea said. "Back upstairs. And try not to set the drapes on fire like last time."
They were always getting into trouble, those two.
Thea and Dalton reentered the crowd, stopping to nod and chat with their guests.
Thea overheard two matrons discussing their somewhat hasty union .
"They say the duke swept her off her feet at the conclusion of the ceremony and kissed her so thoroughly one of her aunts actually fainted dead away," one of the women said, her ostrich plumes quivering.
That rumor was entirely true.
A shiver chased down her spine as she remembered that epic kiss.
Which led to thoughts of the wedding night that followed.
And then her knees were too weak to support her.
"Ready for more?" Dalton whispered, propping her against him with a solid arm at her waist.
More what? Kisses?
Thea blushed.
"What are you thinking about, wicked wife of mine?" Dalton whispered, low and hot in her ear. "You're turning the most delectable shade of pink. I thought I'd cured you of that. I think you want more scandalizing."
"Later," Thea remonstrated. "Look," she said, to distract him. ". . . Isn't that your friend Lord Hatherly talking to Miss Alice Tombs by the Vigée Le Brun portrait? You don't see him venture from his den often."
"Why, so it is, poor Nick. Shall we rescue him?"
"I like Miss Tombs. She's terribly clever." Alice Tombs was one of Charlene's best friends, and the three ladies had spent many enjoyable afternoons together discussing new plans for Charlene's charitable ventures. The sale of several art works tonight would benefit her women's refuge.
Dalton raised his eyebrows. "And terribly odd."
Thea smiled. "She has her reasons."
As they passed, Thea caught a snatch of Lord Hatherly and Alice's conversation.
"But the lady's only wearing a thin drapery. She looks awfully chilly," Alice said, pursing her lips so her dimples deepened.
"It displays her . . . attributes . . . to the best advantage." That from the always-scandalous Lord Hatherly.
"But she's apt to catch the grippe and die of a bilious fever."
"It's only a painting," Thea heard Lord Hatherly say, with a dazed expression in his gray eyes.
As Dalton steered her toward the balcony, Thea noted with pleasure that the Duke and Duchess of Harland stood just beyond the glass balcony doors, leaning over the railing, their shoulders touching.
The air was warm outside, and scented with the jasmine that twined over the balcony railing.
"There you are," Thea said when she and Dalton joined them. "Are you hiding?"
"We were kissing," Harland announced, his green eyes sparking.
Charlene swatted his arm. "James."
"Well, it's true, my love."
Thea surveyed the crowded gallery through the glass doors. "Really, one medium-sized scandal would have been enough to lure them here. And we've provided at least four large ones."
"Four?" Dalton asked. "That many?"
"Exhibits A and B," Thea said. "The Scandalous Duchesses."
Charlene smiled, her blue-gray eyes, so similar to Thea's own, sparking with laughter. "The courtesan's daughter and her runaway half sister."
"Exhibit C." Thea swept a hand toward the glass doors. "The Dowager Recluse making her first appearance in society in over a decade."
"Exhibit D," James proclaimed. "The Prodigal Spare, returned from the dead."
Thea found Patrick in the crowd. He stood, tall and commanding and nearly as sinfully handsome as his brother, talking to a pretty girl in a pale pink gown.
"You see?" Thea crowed. "Four large-sized scandals. They hardly know which one to gawk at first."
"Speaking of scandal, there's Alice and Hatherly," Charlene said. "We'll go and fetch them. James has a flask in his pocket."
She and James reentered the room, leaving Thea and Dalton alone.
"I think you forgot one of the scandals, little lamb," Dalton said.
"Did I?"
He backed her against the French glass doors.
"You forgot this one." He laced his arms around her and claimed her mouth with his strong, sensual lips.
She sighed, leaning in to the kiss, thrilling to the danger. She didn't even care that the ton might see her green satin-covered arse pressed against the glass panes.
Because every single time they kissed, she tumbled deeper in love with her husband.
The green hills of Ireland would always wait for her.
And London had become far more welcoming.
But Dalton's arms around her?
That was home.
How the Duke Was Won
And don't miss the first sparkling romance in Lenora Bell's Disgraceful Dukes series,
HOW THE DUKE WAS WON
The pleasure of your company is requested at Warbury Park. Four lovely ladies will arrive . . . but only one can become a duchess.
James, the scandalously uncivilized Duke of Harland, requires a bride with a spotless reputation for a strictly business arrangement. Lust is prohibited and love is out of the question.
Four ladies. Three days. What could go wrong?
She is not like the others . . .
Charlene Beckett, the unacknowledged daughter of an earl and a courtesan, has just been offered a life-altering fortune to pose as her half sister Lady Dorothea and win the duke's proposal. All she must do is:
Be the perfect English rose [Ha!]
Breathe, smile, and curtsy in impossibly tight gowns [blast Lady Dorothea's sylphlike figure]
Charm and seduce a wild duke [without appearing to try]
Keep said duke far, far from her heart [no matter how tempting]
When secrets are revealed and passion overwhelms, James must decide if the last lady he should want is really everything he needs. And Charlene must decide if the promise of a new life is worth risking everything . . . including her heart.