Dare stared at the board. He’d seen it coming, of course, but he was still astounded at how far her skill had come in such a short time. He should not have been, however, since she was the cleverest woman he’d ever known. “Well done,” he murmured with great admiration, his gaze finding hers.
She grinned with pride and looked toward his mother, who sat nearby doing needlework. “I won, Mama.” The dowager had insisted her new daughter-in-law call her Mama. She adored Juno, just as Dare had predicted.
“Huzzah!” His mother put down her needlework and reached for her glass of sherry. “A toast to the duchess and her victory!”
Dare picked up his glass of port at the same moment Juno did the same. They all lifted their glasses and took a drink.
“It’s too bad your parents and grandfather left this morning,” his mother went on. “I daresay the baron would have been thrilled with your triumph.”
The baron had been surprisingly charming. Dare had liked him a great deal. Her parents were less…likeable, but that was probably because Dare was holding a grudge for the way they’d treated Juno these past several years. He hadn’t been able to resist pointing out that their daughter had married without their permission yet again, though it seemed this one was more to their taste. Juno had elbowed him sharply for that. Then later, she’d tended his (nonexistent) hurt and thanked him gleefully for being the best husband ever.
“I think I’ll turn in.” Dare’s mother stood and bid them good night. “I shall miss you when you’re off with your charge,” she said to Juno.
“I’ll miss you too, Mama,” Juno said warmly. “But we’ll be together again for Yuletide, and then you’ll come back to London for the Season.”
“I can hardly wait. Good night, my lovelies.” She gave Dare the same look she’d bestowed on him since she’d arrived in London to meet Juno—one of absolute love and gratitude. She was so very happy that he was happy.
And that made him even happier. He’d turned into soft pulp or whatever was the opposite of rigid.
“Hmm, should we go up to bed too?” Juno asked. “We’ve only two more nights until I leave for Presley.”
“I’m beginning to think I should come with you.”
She shook her head. “No, you’d be a huge distraction, and I can’t have that. Even though I didn’t really fail with Marina, I still feel the need for this to be my most successful position yet.”
“Of course you didn’t fail with her,” he said softly. “She has told you as much.” Lady Marina had written to them upon hearing of their betrothal and wished them every happiness. She’d seemed in good spirits—at least on paper.
“I suppose not. I do hope I’ll get to see her in the new year at some point. Perhaps during the Season. In the meantime, our separation is only a month.”
“Closer to five weeks,” he corrected.
“I love that you are aware of every day we’ll be apart. The time will fly, and then I’ll be with you for the holidays.” She stood from her chair and came around the small table.
He pushed his chair back, angling it so he could pull her onto his lap. “I’m still coming to fetch you. I insist. In fact, I should also deliver you. That would give us two more days—and one night together.” He buried his face in her neck and kissed her warm flesh.
“Two nights, actually, since you’d have to stay over at Presley before leaving.”
“You’re not saying no.” His blood heated in anticipation, both for the journey to Presley and for the next ten minutes.
“I suppose I’m not.” She ran her hands through his hair, her fingers massaging his scalp as he feasted on her neck and collarbone. “Yes, come with me. But not to stay.”
He cupped her nape and pulled her down for a long, torrid kiss. “We’ll see if I can’t change your mind.”
“If anyone can do that, it’s you, my love. But then unlike you, I have always been rather flexible.”
“Mmm.” He kissed her again. “Show me.”
* * *
Don’t miss what happens at the Blickton House Party in 1803, where matchmaking shenanigans and true love abounds! Follow the Matchmaking Chronicles with The Bachelor Earl and then continue with The Runaway Viscount!
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