What I Did for a Duke (Pennyroyal Green, #5)

by Julie Anne Long

The voice was low, dark, and almost offhandedly, lightheartedly menacing. Mother of God. It was like the night itself had spoken.

The flame shuddered fitfully and at last took hold. And at last a man’s face flickered in and out of light and shadow. It was a bit like watching Lucifer sitting at a campfire. “Moncrieffe.” Ian’s voice was hoarse with shock. Unfortunately, Abigail gasped the word at the same time, lending the flavor of a bad pantomime to the whole thing.

She cleared her throat. She wasn’t mute. Excellent. “You needn’t shout, Lord Moncrieffe. It’s just . . .” He leaned forward as it seemed she was about to confide something. “It’s just I cannot seem to stop smiling.” It was his turn to go silent. “You do it very well,” he offered cautiously, finally. “Thank you.” She beamed queasily.